19/04/2026
This year, our three-year-old heard her first roar.
The kind that rolls through the hills at night. Deep, distant, and loud enough to feel like dinosaurs moving through the dark. We were tucked into the tent, listening. Out there, in the right spot, it’s deafening.
She sat on the ridgeline, eating the extra chocolate and biscuits her grandfather had packed, learning to roar back with her little hand cupped to her mouth. Learning to move quietly. Learning to “get in behind.”
For a moment, she was the toughest, proudest little girl in the world.
Now, as she edges closer to five, you start to wonder. Did I make the most of that window? That small stretch of time where everything is new, everything is magic, and even a leaf falling off a tree is enough to stop them in their tracks.
You only get about 157 million seconds in those first five years.
Or roughly 260 weekends.
That’s it.
And knowing that every second spent in the mountains, by the fire, in the tent, in the forest, or swimming in the river is time well spent makes the choice a little clearer.
There is plenty of time after that, but not like this. Not with that same wonder.
So sometimes the jobs can wait. The list can sit there a little longer. The better call is to just pack up and go. Even if it is only for a day walk.
We have been a little quiet on here lately.
Not by accident, just out trying to steal a few more of those seconds while we can.