I’ve wandered through the sugar pines of Laurel Hill half a dozen times now, yet the forest keeps drawing me back. Perhaps it’s the limbless trunks towering above. Or the golden light flooding the forest of an early morning. Or the eerie streams of fog snaking through the trees on a brisk winter’s day. 

Regardless, each time I walk away humbled by the grandeur of the giants, knowing I'll return again soon.