As a child, I explored fearlessly, unapologetically, and literally ran my feet off until I fell down in exhaustion. When my family moved to San Francisco, visiting relatives and an awe at the new landscapes around us led us to explore our new Californian backyard. On one such visit to Muir Woods, we were only steps into the park – ancient redwoods towering above my short stature, a serene quiet wrapping around us, musty earthy scents filling our lungs – before I took off like a cheetah, leaving my dumbfounded parents to frantically keep me in sight. I bounded up coastal mountains and between arching roots and hanging moss, giggling with untamed joy. I came to a viewpoint, paused panting, and sat down in the rich dirt, pine needles between my tiny fingers. My parents reached me and I refused to move, forcing them to carry me all the way back. While my parents claim I was utterly exhausted, I believe I wanted to stay put, to stare at that forest view forever.

I came alive in those trees. I inhaled the fresh air, absorbed the sun’s warm rays on my skin, felt the low hum of the earth reach my bones and make me want to run to it. I may have been exhausted, but I was restless to see more and I have been restless ever since.

I’m a hiker, a dreamer, a traveler, a storyteller. I’m an engineer, an outdoor advocate, a cat mom, a bookworm, an extroverted introvert. Above all, I’m generally just an unconventional and restless gal.