This is a little trail, in a little county park, off a little road, in the mountains that form the border of two little towns in northern California. I ache for this place. I've lived over a thousand miles away from it for a decade now, and I always find myself wanting to end up on this trail during the hardest times. On rainy days when the fog rolls through, you can only hear your own footsteps as you walk, and the air is heavily perfumed with the scent of eucalyptus that grows between the redwoods. The trail fades into gray behind and infront of you, and you find yourself happily locked in a time and place that you didn't think existed anymore. In a world of appointments, deadlines, bills and errands, I often forget how important it is to just be still. This photo gives me an opportunity to be there when I can't be physically, and I think that's something to hold on to.