A distinct memory: reading Desert Solitaire by Edward Abbey for the first time, drinking in the words that described what I had, where I was, resting in the sun, filtered through the boughs of massive pines, laying on the stump of an ancient Sequoia, fifteen feet off the ground, catching wisps of the breeze carried down from the mountain pass above.

Not too long now and I’ll hit my twenty-ninth year. I’ve learned a great deal in my walk on this Earth but nothing so prevalent as this - that there is so little that I do know, that there is much more to understand, much more knowledge to gather and hold, and to walk in humble awe of that fact.