Sitting there with my youngest gsd, doing yoga in the middle of absolute nowhere, surrounded by the sound of birds settling in for the evening and the soft rush of the river just below our site is where it all became pretty clear.
In the moments coming out of postures I saw a couple walking by with their dog, headed for the river. A pair of plaid jacketed men walking up the path, tackle box and line in hand, and worries left behind. The horses quietly finishing the last of their dinner in their stalls, tired from a day of climbing mountains, looking for hidden water falls. The dogs, also exhausted after an afternoon packed with new smells and their own mountains to climb.
This was it. The life. If I never went home, this would be "the life" people talked about. At least it was for me. Then I thought about home. I had the life there too. Sport dogs to train, horses to roam with and a piece of land to call my own. I didn't need more than that.
A passion for dogs, fuelled by the passion of others who had the same kind of drive to make dogs their careers and livelihoods caused an enormous urge to drive forward. Seek more knowledge, be grateful for today and never ever look back when you've found something you love.
Returning to the mountains always resets my soul.
What resets yours? Got your image? Ok, good. Now go get it.