A little different this time around: instead of one long story and a gallery, I’m breaking this work trip to Corpus up image by image. It was a productive trip, just not a particularly eventful one, and rather than force a bigger narrative, I figured I’d keep it simple and let the photos do more of the talking.

I started this post on a Tuesday after one of the toughest workdays I’ve had in a long time, and somehow found myself actually wanting to write again. What began as a rough outline turned into a full entry on creative spark, too much talking about cold coffee, and why a snow days make me feel like a kid.

Meltdown’s over (for now), and this one feels like a step back toward normal—whatever that means these days. On The Right Path pulls from a 2025 hike with my oldest kiddo and keeps things lighter on words, heavier on photos, and rooted in the idea that progress sometimes looks like small steps, extra shutter clicks, and just staying in motion.

Yeah, no more “adulting” for me.

This trip to Corpus started with a loud thunk, a rapidly deflating tire, and a Discount Tire receipt that somehow became my only set of notes.

This trip happened a while ago, and it took even longer to write about. But somewhere between a cold front, an empty highway, Ocean Drive, and a familiar beer in Corpus, the story finally came together.

The most wonderful time of the year isn’t December—it’s the offseason in Port Aransas, when the crowds are gone, the coast slows down, and everything feels right again.

Not much to say. I was overdue on uploading content, so here is some randomness from 2023.

Last December, I took a break from the daily grind and hit the road with my coworkers for what I like to call an ‘adult field trip.’ It wasn’t just a work trip to Shiner—it was a chance to reset, reconnect, and remind ourselves why stepping away from the office every now and then matters. From exploring Bedrock Truck Beds to unwinding over a cold one, this trip still stands out as a meaningful moment of authenticity, team bonding, and good ol’ Texas hospitality.

Some adventures deserve a full story, but sometimes, a quick blurb does the job. Taking a break from beach photos, I’m sharing a few snapshots from a hike near the Guadalupe River around this time last year.

This Thanksgiving, we took our longest getaway yet to Port Aransas—our home away from home. From beach days to cozy nights at the beach house, we traded tradition for waves and made memories that will last a lifetime. The coast truly is the best place to recharge, and this trip was one for the books.

For the first time since the kids were born, it was just the two of us. No kids, no crumbs, no chaos—just us, on the road to Port Aransas. It felt strange—borderline unsettling, if I’m being honest—not having them in the backseat. Usually, no matter where we go, they’re always with us. But this trip was different. It was about hitting pause on the chaos, letting go of the guilt, and reconnecting.

Our family’s quick getaway to Idaho was full of firsts—first flights for the kids, first time trading the Texas heat for cool mountain air, and first memories we’ll cherish for a lifetime. From the winding mountain roads that begged us to stop and explore, to the breathtaking fall colors that painted the landscape, our three days at Tamarack Resort for a family wedding were unforgettable. With plenty of laughs, adventures, and even a few wild dance moves, this trip left us craving more time in Idaho’s natural beauty.

My last post, This Is The End…, nearly became the unintended finale of this blog. Life threw more work my way than I’d seen in a long time, so it took a few months to get back to this follow-up. Here’s the content from Port Aransas that I’d planned to share back in February—better late than never. These images, captured during a chilly, rain-soaked November trip, bring back memories of moody skies, family time, and cozy escapes from the weather. Despite the rain, any Gulf Coast getaway is a win in my book

All things must come to an end—even the good ones. This entry wraps up the series on my transition from Nikon to the Leica Q2. Don’t worry, this isn’t the end of my blog or The Texas Native project; it’s just the beginning of a new chapter. After two decades with Nikon, moving to the Q2 felt monumental, and in some ways, nerve-wracking. But from the first shot, it was clear that this change was right, especially seeing how my kids warmed to the Leica, asking to be photographed like never before. This camera is here to stay, and there’s a lot more to come.

There’s a certain comfort in the familiar, which is probably why it took me eight months to finally say goodbye to my Nikon gear. Even though I knew the Leica Q2 would be my next and only camera, the thought of change felt daunting after two decades of Nikon. Looking back, I used my D500 more during those last months than I had in years, a fitting farewell before fully committing to a simpler, more intentional kit. This post isn’t about a review; it’s a capstone to my Nikon era—filled with images that capture the everyday moments as much as the highlights.

After parting ways with the Fuji X100V, my search for the perfect camera led me down several paths before landing on the Leica Q2. A winter storm and some unexpected time off provided the perfect opportunity to test it out, side-by-side with my trusted Nikon D500. From the first shot, the Q2 felt like a revelation—its build, image quality, and simplicity reigniting my creative drive. Though it took eight months to officially make the switch, I eventually sold all my Nikon gear and committed to the Q2 Reporter. No regrets. The Q2 has become my only camera, and it’s a change I’m glad I made.

After years of familiar routines and predictable steps, I found myself at a crossroads, ready to take a leap into something different. This new path is less about following a set plan and more about exploring new possibilities, one step at a time. It’s a shift in direction that feels right, even if it means embracing the unknown.

As the trip wrapped up, we soaked in the last bit of Atlanta’s energy before heading home. From unexpected finds to familiar sights, the city delivered a mix of moments that made the journey worthwhile. This final leg was a reminder of the value in exploring, even if it’s just a few days away, and taking in the details that make each place unique.

With a full stomach and a few hours to spare, we set out to explore more of Atlanta’s downtown. We meandered through Centennial Park, taking in the city’s mix of history and modern energy, and I couldn’t resist capturing a few shots along the way. Between the afternoon heat and the buzz of the city, the day felt like a blend of work and discovery—a pace that suited our first day in town perfectly.