Walking down a boot worn path the smell of cottonwood grows stronger the closer I get to the river’s edge. The ice has melted and tiny spikes of green dot the bank. A breeze lifts, my heart beats, I step in. Time stops.
I am wholly taken by the ever-changing face of nature. The river has carved out the landscape and shaped the stones. Water from mountain glaciers has fed the wildflowers, trees, meadows and wildlife for millennia. I am here, and for a while at least here is the only place in the world.