Collecting Moments, Not Miles
Historic Shepherdstown, established 1762.
After an easy morning of writing and sipping a gently brewed Silver Falls Sumatra pour-over, Mark and I drove ten country-road miles to Shepherdstown, the oldest town in West Virginia, known for Shepherd University, its rich Civil War history, and a lively downtown filled with locally owned shops.
What made the morning memorable wasn't simply the town itself. It was the people.
We spent time talking with several shopkeepers—a spiritualist, a fly-fisherman coffee roaster, and an aspiring journalist. Each was kind, generous, fully present, and eager to share a piece of their story.
At Wings of Dreams, a metaphysical shop tucked along one end of Main Street, the owner welcomed us warmly and invited us to return for one of the town's many community gatherings.
Steve, the fly fisherman overseeing his family's shop, Shepherds Blessings – Soap, Tea, Coffee, and a Lil Paint, filled the afternoon with stories about fishing, family, and how their unique little store came to be.
Then there was the aspiring journalist working at Four Seasons Books, a woman-owned independent bookstore. She is studying creative writing at Shepherd University, and we talked about writing, workshops, and the sometimes uncertain path toward becoming an author while Mark happily disappeared upstairs among the used books. Her excitement about the future was contagious. Listening to her reminded me that dreams don't have expiration dates. In fact, they often grow stronger with time. I left feeling inspired to dig a little deeper into my own hope of one day publishing a novel or two.
Before leaving downtown, Mark and I stopped at Maria’s Taqueria for what may be some of the best Mexican food I've had on the East Coast. The food was, as always, outstanding.
One final stop remained before heading back to camp: O’Hurley’s General Store.
The Great Room at O’Hurley’s General Store.
Walking through its doors feels like stepping into another era. The original owner, Mr. O'Hurley, who immigrated from Ireland, built an addition using reclaimed wood from an eighteenth-century farmhouse. Every Thursday evening that room fills with local musicians for community music nights. When Mr. O'Hurley passed away, he left the store to the four women who had worked beside him for years. Three of them are still there today, lovingly carrying on the tradition.
It struck me that every memorable place is really a collection of human stories.
Those stories are what stay with us.
This gorgeous “Burnside” Sycamore tree witnessed the battle of Antietam at what became known as Burnside Bridge, a turning point in the civil war.
After our adventure in Shepherdstown, we made an unexpected three-hour detour to Antietam National Battlefield, a National Park Service site along Antietam Creek in Sharpsburg, Maryland. It commemorates the Battle of Antietam, fought on September 17, 1862, the bloodiest single day in American history. The Union victory gave President Abraham Lincoln the confidence to issue the Preliminary Emancipation Proclamation just five days later, forever changing the course of the Civil War.
Neither of us had planned to spend the afternoon there.
Yet as we quietly walked the grounds, stood beside the monuments, and reflected on the lives forever altered by that single day, we found ourselves unexpectedly moved. It was one of those detours that reminds us travel is often at its richest when we allow curiosity to lead.
By the time our heads finally hit the pillows last night, we both felt as though we had lived one of the most memorable days of our travels so far.
Best Memories Are Filled With Soul
Old tree at Antietam overseeing a cemetery of many families who at one time lived in this area during the civil war, and subsequent years afterward.
When we look back on our lives, we rarely remember the number of miles we traveled or how many attractions we managed to check off a list. Instead, we remember how a day felt.
We remember laughter echoing across a café table.
We remember the unexpected detours that turned into the highlight of the trip.
We remember the way golden light filtered through old trees or reflected off historic brick buildings.
We remember meals that lingered long after the last bite because of the conversation shared around them.
We remember quiet moments with someone we love, saying very little, yet somehow saying everything.
We remember sunsets that asked nothing of us except to pause and watch.
Most of all, we remember the rare gift of being completely present.
Those are the moments that become woven into who we are.
The beautiful thing is that these moments aren't reserved for vacations or grand adventures. They are available close to home as well. They can be found during an evening walk through the neighborhood, a conversation with a stranger at the farmers market, coffee on the porch before the world wakes up, or watching the last light disappear behind familiar trees.
Soul isn't found in distance.
It's found in attention.
Practice: Notice Three Moments
This display of Raggedy Ann & Andy’s at O’Hurleys invited back some of my fondest childhood memories of my best friend, Raggedy Ann.
Throughout your day today, pause long enough to notice three moments you'd like to remember.
They don't have to be extraordinary.
Simply notice them.
Perhaps it's the warmth of your morning coffee, an unexpected smile from a stranger, or the way evening light spills across your kitchen floor.
Before bed, write those three moments down.
Over time, you'll discover that an ordinary life is anything but ordinary when you're paying attention.
Carrying the Light Forward
Our days are built one moment at a time.
Some become stories we'll tell for years. Others quietly shape us without ever demanding attention. Together, they form the life we're living.
As we continue our own journey—whether across the country or simply across town—I hope we remember that meaning isn't waiting somewhere else. It reveals itself whenever we slow down enough to notice.
A meaningful life isn't measured only by where we've been, but by how fully we were present while we were there.