Not all wealth is counted in coin. Some of it is the warmth of a late sun, the company of a soul, and the hush between crickets and stars.

We chased the day westward, but the light still slipped away.

I am hiking this morning.

Time to reflect, respect and recover.

When our footsteps fade, the moonlight remembers our journey.

“To live in hearts we leave behind is not to die.”
 — Thomas Campbell

Sweet Princes pray for dreams worth remembering, but sometimes the dark of consciousness chases the ether.

In the depths of a tidepool, I find the universe. In the ebb and flow of memory, I find my heart.

In another moment down went Alice after it, never once considering how in the world she was to get out again.