"We wander outside of town. Find a secluded forest road and set up camp next to a wall of red rock, read the lessons of the millennia written there. It’s quiet enough to hear the wind washing at the stone, doing the patient work that’s shaped this place. It’s tempting to see these hills as permanent. Fixed points in the wash of the world, but the truth is sweeter. They churn like the rest of us. The sights we’re seeing are a flash. That we’re fortunate to be where we are, when we are."
I mentioned Zach's writing in a previous post and am sharing another post for you to click through on because 30 posts in it still stands up. Follow along on his adventure and enjoy!