Comfort in the Quest
4:59 I grab my phone and keys and throw them into my bag. I shut down my computer and look back at the clock hanging above the water cooler…
5:00. I’m already on my feet and out the door. If traffic’s light, I’ll hit the trail in time for golden hour. I’m wearing my Kato jeans and shirt—sharp enough for casual Friday at the office, rugged enough for whatever’s ahead.
I’m not sure why I do this. Maybe it’s the pursuit, the hunt for something fleeting. That rare moment when the world reveals itself in a way most people never see. By the time I get to where the road ends and the trail begins, I am more than ready—ready for some fresh air, ready to clear my head, ready for the weekend
I walk along a trail I have never been to before. My vision sharpens. My mind drifts between intense focus and wandering thoughts. It’s an outward meditation—not escaping from the world, embracing it. There is no specific destination, no X on a map. I’m not sure exactly where I’m going, but I’ll know when I get there.
Golden Hour—some call it magic hour. I stand at the edge of a cliff and look through the lens. There is certainly no better way to describe this moment magic.
Everything feels still and alive all at once. Some days, I photograph with intention. I focus on what I want to say to the world through my lens. Today, I just listen and keep myself open to what the world has to say to me.
