It’s our last evening in Glacier National Park. The wildfire smoke is being blown out by a late summer storm. Rain patters the car as we find the trail of the ancients….

I carry my bear spray on my hip pocket like an old gunslinger as we make our way along the old growth forest. I love nothing more than being in such ancient places, full of magic and wisdom. No matter how old you are, surrounded by trees that are hundreds of years old makes you feel young and small, yet inexplicably connected to Mother Nature.

Flooey repeatedly asks me to take pictures so she can paint the images later. I love her so much for this.

The rain starts to fall again, and the littles run quickly back to the car to keep dry. I take my time along the trail, reveling in the refreshing raindrops that fall on my face.

As we all bundle into the car to head back to the cabin for our last meal and slumber, I capture the trees zipping by as we drive, the sun finally visible.

It’s a sunset I’ll never forget as our family reunion comes to a close.

Wench, bring my ale, what say you?

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