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This summer, my son and I took a trip to Aspen. That’s where one set of grandparents live. Though the weather was comfortably warm, it was much cooler in the highlands.
On this day, we hiked at Maroon Bells, the Rocky Mountain peaks closest to Aspen. There, I marveled at the clear water and air. We secluded ourselves away from other hikers. Now all we heard was the gentle hum of the breeze through the trees, the chirp of birds, and water rushing down a rocky stream. It was like a nature soundtrack, except we were here.
Then there was the path, nestled in between trees and the large rocks. This is when it was quietest, when nature gave you a solo: you heard the sound of your feet and your breath, nothing more. Nature likes to see you work for the space she gives you. I opened my mouth to tell my son how beautiful it all was, but he was walking the same path. In this sanctuary, you are grateful, but there’s not much to...
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