Kyle and I have a "secret" place in Ann Arbor. We discovered it while driving around on our typical Sunday afternoon. Whenever we get a chance, we take Maizy there and walk the trails, pick the berries and count how many deer we can spot.

Lately, we've learned a few things. First, flip flops nor boat shoes are adequate for hiking. Removal of tick on foot, CHECK.

Secondly, morning coffee and trail hiking only go hand in hand in my book.

Our expectations may have been set high for the size of animal we would spot:

as my only sighting this past week was out of the car window:

However, the best discovery came when we went off the beaten path {insert Robert Frost poem here}. One small dirt trail leads right to the bank of the river. This past Sunday, we sank our toes into the murky waters, held up our shorts and waded into the river. We splashed one another like school children and cheered Maizy on as she attempted to swim against the current. Those few precious hours of time with just the two of us have become so rare. Our "secret" place may not be the most luxurious location we could have found, but it's ours. As soon as the car door closes, it becomes our safe haven; a place of release from the careers that threaten to steal all of our attention and energy. A simple trail and river that manages to hold our families memories of transition. just ours.

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