This hike made me feel calm, gleeful, and child-like — giggling with Andrew as the wind gusts pushed against us and squeezing inside tiny crevices of gigantic boulders. This is love amplified in countless forms.
And this is Richmond, our Richmond — a big little city (as residents say), one that boasts of its river so much the area is nicknamed “The River City.” Here’s more on our walk along the floodwall . . .
It felt a mighty battle between gods for light and darkness. Deep grey clouds suffocated the sun and loomed over the blue valley while the sun struggled to pierce through in broken patches of light.
This is our home. This is where we feel most comfortable — where the sun and moon shine together and where colors are at their prime. This is where the world stands still but also blurs by and we grasp — keep trying to grasp — that moment where we, too, can freeze in time.
Here, the white boulders were streamed with hints of pastels — yellows, oranges, and pinks — as we watched the sun set until it faded behind the Blue Ridge Mountains.