New in Town: Hitting the trails
So many of my favorite memories happened outside.
I can remember as a kid running around barefoot for hours in the pastureland that surrounded our farmhouse: climbing trees, making forts with my brother, collecting rocks and cicada shells to store in shoe boxes under my bed. At night we chased lightning bugs, and when it rained, we raced twigs down the tiny streams that formed in the sand of our long drive.
As I grew, I learned to love fishing, swimming, bike riding and camping — the smoky smell of burnt brats and marshmallows lingering as stories are swapped under a peaceful, starry sky.