02/16/2026
It had been far too long since my friend Bob and I hit the trail together. We decided on Penitente Canyon, a place that never seems to lose its magic, no matter how many times you navigate its paths.
This trip wasn't about "conquering" a trail or rushing to a summit. I wanted to move slowly. I wanted to simply savor the friendship and the rhythm of the walk. I found myself getting lost in the interplay of light and texture against the rock, taking intentional pauses to breathe it all in before even thinking about capturing the view.
Being back there brought a flood of memories. The last time I stood among these formations, my children were small—full of that restless, wandering energy of childhood. Now, the house is changing. My youngest is preparing for college, and the "busy years" of hands-on parenting are shifting into something new.
It’s easy to feel a sense of loss when things change so quickly, but standing in the canyon, I felt a different perspective:
Life isn't moving toward an end; it is moving toward a rebirth.
As one season of life closes, another is blooming. It’s a reminder that while time moves fast, the beauty lies in how we evolve alongside it.
