Sometimes You Have to Choose

September 9th, 2026

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One of the things I rarely think about until I’m actually out there is how much of an adventure comes down to choosing.

Not just where to go.

What to look for.

On almost every morning I spend outside, there are several versions of the day waiting for me.

I can stay near the water and hope something moves along the shoreline.

I can disappear into the woods and listen for birds waking somewhere above me.

I can find an opening in the trees and wait for the first good light.

Or I can climb.

That was the decision waiting for me on this particular morning at Brasstown Bald.

Part of me wanted to stay down low.

Early morning is one of my favorite times to look for wildlife. The world is quieter. Animals are moving. The light slowly begins reaching places that only minutes earlier were hidden in darkness.

There was every reason to stay.

But there was another possibility waiting higher up the mountain.

Sunrise.

So I started climbing.

Before that came the drive, a winding mountain road almost completely swallowed by darkness.

Then the trail.

For a while, there wasn't much to see beyond the small piece of the world immediately around me. Brush crowded either side of the path as I made my way toward the top.

And then the trail opened.

The observation building appeared ahead of me as a silhouette against a sky that had already begun changing color.

Beyond it were the mountains.

Layer after layer disappearing toward the horizon.

Below them, fog rested in the valleys and slowly moved between the ridges like water.

The sky brightened.

Colors deepened.

And for a while, nothing dramatic happened.

The world simply became more visible.

Then the first edge of the sun appeared.

It’s strange how much uncertainty can disappear in a moment like that.

A few minutes earlier, I had still been wondering about the morning I hadn't chosen.

What wildlife might have been moving below me.

What photograph I might have found somewhere else.

But watching the sun rise above those mountains, I wasn't thinking about any of it.

I was just there.

I think that’s something I’m slowly learning through all of this.

There probably isn’t a perfect adventure.

There will always be another trail you could have followed.

Another animal you might have found.

Another patch of light happening somewhere you couldn't see.

Choosing one thing means missing another.

Maybe the goal isn't to make the perfect choice.

Maybe it’s to choose, and then be completely present for whatever you find on the other side of it.

That morning, I chose the climb.

Watching fog move through the valleys beneath Brasstown Bald while the sun appeared over the horizon…

I think I made the right decision.

Find wonder.