Well, summer’s already halfway over, and I just celebrated a birthday that officially places me almost mid-50s. But let’s call it early fifties, just for funsies. Not mid. Not late. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.
Still, the milestone gave me pause. If life really is a marathon, does that mean I’m at the halfway marker? (or, gasp, already past the marker?) Should I be pacing myself—or sprinting?
Here in Golden, the passage of summer feels especially noticeable. The river’s still high, and the crane is waiting to get back to work. 9th Street North is bustling with visitors and bikes. You can’t get a spot on a patio without earning it, and the scent of sunscreen, campfire, and someone’s barbecue follows you everywhere.
And honestly? I love it.
There’s something about living in a small mountain town that makes time feel both stretched and sacred. You can spend an entire afternoon at Cedar Lake doing absolutely nothing, and somehow that still feels productive. You can run into half your contact list at the Wednesday Farmers’ Market and call it socializing. You can sit on your deck and watch the light shift across the peaks, and it feels like you’ve done something with your day.
Golden reminds me that living fully doesn’t have to be loud or exotic. Sometimes it’s just hiking a trail you’ve walked a hundred times and still finding it beautiful. Sometimes it’s sipping a cold drink after mowing the lawn and watching paragliders drift down from Mount 7 like dandelion fluff. It’s dinner on the porch. It’s getting a wave from someone you know every time you walk downtown. It’s a stolen morning at Bacchus Café with a really good book.
If this is what halfway through life looks like, I’ll take it.
I’m not saying I don’t have big dreams; there are still a few adventures I’d like to tick off, but I also know that not every moment needs to be monumental. These days, I’m more interested in moments that feel rooted. Real. Local.
So here’s to the second half of summer, and the second half of life, whatever that ends up being. I plan to soak up every minute I can, right here in the Columbia Valley, where every season has its own kind of magic, and where “living your best life” doesn’t mean chasing something far away.
It means knowing you’ve already found it.
