TRAILHEADS

As I laid in bed, about to fall asleep, a surreal green light seeped through my window catching my attention. Intrigued, I grabbed my coat and stepped onto the porch. The forest was pitch-black and empty, save for the haunting scream of a fox that echoed between the trees. I looked up. Above me was the kind of celestial dance one can never forget— amidst bright stars, the northern lights lit the sky on fire in shades of ethereal green. There I stood, in the snow, the world completely silent, people elsewhere asleep and unaware of the glorious event that was taking place above us. I rushed back inside to grab my camera. As the lights swayed across the sky, changing in color, I moved with them. A dance that only nature could make possible.

Embracing the thought that adventures can happen right outside your front door brought a new sense of calm and excitement into my life. Every day could present me with something new, and I no longer had to make a “big deal” about somehow living up to other people’s standards of what an adventure should be. Honestly, it’s often a lot more fun this way as well. Out in my local woods, I’m not burdened by a heavy backpack or fretting over my trail choice. Walking these familiar paths liberates my mind to wander, too, and with my camera guiding me, it’s now become second nature to notice the minutiae: the intricate pattern of a fern’s leaf, a tiny bug navigating its world, or how droplets on a leaf sparkle when hit by sunlight just so.

Being on larger expeditions often puts us on a timer, driving us to meet specific goals before dusk. In that rush, the fullness of nature sometimes becomes a mere afterthought. My smaller, local adventures allow me the freedom to explore and truly see. I can pause, zoom in on details, change routes on a whim, or double back to a path that caught my eye. That’s the beauty of it—I can engage fully with the world around me, all while capturing these meaningful fragments through my lens.