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Walking the Black Balsam trails is like coming home. They’re varied and sometimes rugged, but kind. A few places feel almost magical — two of them are off-trail (shhh). I say a silent hello once I reach them and look around to see what’s changed. Something always has, and each season looks so different from the others. I may touch the ground or a rock or tree trunk or some soft, spongy moss. If I see bear poop, though, I turn back around. I like to hike late in the day after the talking people have gone so all I hear is the wind, the rustling of hidden creatures, and my boots doing their thing. When I take friends, I beam like a proud mama.
“mega cover image with minor animation” > no headline, testing if loads faster than LayerSlider (it doesn’t)
“night vid” > full-screen autoload from Vimeo
“quad fades” > no pace between
“stair steps” > alternating-side 1/2 column images
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“swipe” > before and after
“wet” > full screen diptych