It is a good time of year. The garden is still putting out. Not everything, but plenty of hearty vegetables that can survive frost. We had a wonderful dinner with friends and family. The food was delicious. There were kids laughing. My little boy Cooper sat with me at dinner. Next year he will be gnawing on a drumstick. The wine was flowing and so were the stories. It made me wonder how I got so lucky. It can’t be explained. I can only give thanks for my good fortune.
The day before we were back in the mountains. Chad and Todd are getting the fever. They are east coast boys and are amazed at the sights around each corner. There is something about getting into the rock! They remind me there is a lot I take for granted. Like the sound of the water rushing down the mountain or the cold breeze off the glacier flushing your face in a second.
The hike down was precarious in a stiff rain that slicked the rocks. My little dog hung with me the entire way. I shuffled and bumbled, which seems to be the way a man does things at my age.
Still to be up there. To see it. To see it.