I kind of had to laugh about the irony in an email conversation my hiking friends and I were having last week as we made plans for where we'd hike on Sunday. A number of possible destinations were proposed by various geezer-ly members of our group, then dismissed, not because the hikes would be too long and difficult for humans of our advanced ages (most of the people I hike with are pushing 60, some are already there, while the biggest go-getter among us is 72.) Rather, the proposals were poo-poo'd because the trips sounded too easy.
I guess 60 is the new 20.
The above story is something my friends and I completely understand suggests our mutual great, good fortune: Not only do we live in a part of the world where, on any given day, we have dozens of places were we can go play outside and take-in the kind of natural and varied wonderfulness you see in these scenes I photographed Sunday. We also are blessed with good health so that we can get to those places, on foot, usually with smiles on our faces.
We know that we are lucky old dudes and dudettes, and that each day is a gift.