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.

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.

Just after my birthday, Sarah and I took an early hike through the Texas Hill Country, following familiar trails along the Guadalupe River. Thanks to recent rain, the river was higher than I’d seen in years, a rare sight for a Texas summer marked by relentless heat. Even with the sun bearing down, we enjoyed a quiet hour of exploring, winding from the riverbank up into the dry creek beds and hillside. The Hill Country, even in its scorching season, has a way of rewarding those who seek it out.

A random series of images captured while on a Sunday morning hike last October.

A week after my last hike, curiosity—and a bit of concern—pulled me back outside to see how the relentless heat and drought were impacting the landscape. Instead of the usual trails, I dropped into a dry creek bed, hoping to find signs of life clinging on. Surprisingly, in the few remaining pools, life persisted—frogs, fish, and even a few snakes in the dammed-up sections. With the heat climbing fast, I didn’t linger long, but I did manage to capture a few moments of resilience amidst the dry spell.

Last week—though at this point, it could’ve been any day in this relentless July—I managed to escape to the trails for a couple of hours. Even in the early morning, the Texas heat was relentless, but the shaded paths provided a bit of relief. The hike was a refreshing break, despite the reminder of just how harsh this summer has been on the landscape. Creeks were reduced to puddles, and the Guadalupe River was lower than I’d ever seen. Here’s hoping for rain, though I’m not counting on anything gentle when it finally comes.

When an arctic blast hit Texas, life as we knew it froze over. In a state built for sunshine, the snowstorm brought more than just record lows; it upended routines, tested patience, and forced everyone to find resilience in unexpected ways. Snowpocalypse Now is a look back at a time when heat, water, and comfort were anything but guaranteed—and how, through it all, we found connection and humor in the icy aftermath.