Just one speck in our universal tapestry.

Sometimes I lose myself in the deep pools of your memories.

Sometimes, the wind blows.

Last week, I found out about a friend who passed away suddenly.

I don't know Ken, or I should say, I don’t know Kenneth Hugh Anderson.

I can see you getting older.

I quit my brand new, beautiful job.

Places that remind us of fairytales.

There is so much ​Social ​Media doesn't see.

I find the concept of trail magic absolutely thrilling and all I want to be when I grow up is some form of a trail fairy god-mother.

Wisps of frost coat my lungs and I can feel winter swirling inside.

Sometimes you don't even realize you have them until you're in a reaction from one.

I think about the times when I’d look in your eyes and I’d see the depths of the universe. Galaxies that have never been discovered, at least not in the innocence of a friendship.

"Has anyone ever asked you how you became a trail runner?"

Lately, I feel like Christopher McCandles [alexander supertramp] screaming...

I was 17 years young, wanting the take the road west and give the middle finger to my impending collegiate responsibilities.

This summer was everything short of what I imagined.

You’re my sanity, my solace, and my home.

One day is here and the next is gone.

They say several lives have been lost here.