Golden Hour and the Art of Slow Hiking

There’s a quiet sort of wisdom that comes from walking slowly at golden hour. Not the kind you read in books, but the kind you find when frost crunches under your boots and the light kisses the tops of the hills like it’s saying, “There you are. I was waiting.” I used to think every hike needed a summit or a destination. Now I know some of the best moments come when you stop caring about the finish line and start noticing the little things, the glow on a leaf, the stretch of a shadow, the feeling of just being. Slow hiking taught me that. Or maybe photography did. Either way, it’s worth the cold toes.