Photo taken near Newport, Oregon – Nikon D7500

There’s something about this rock that won’t leave me alone.

It stands alone out there, surrounded by endless water and wind, yet it doesn’t waver. Eroded, yes—but unmoved. It’s a marker in the sea. A memory cast in stone.

When I took this photo, I wasn’t just capturing the coastline. I think I was searching for a reflection of something in myself. Something permanent. Something that says, “I was here.”

Lately, I’ve been thinking more about what kind of legacy I’ll leave behind. Will it be the photos? The hikes? The words I’ve written? Or will it be something quieter—like the way I made someone feel heard, or the stillness I found in nature and passed on through my work?

The truth is, I don’t think legacy has to be grand. I think it can live in small things—like choosing to keep going when it’s easier to quit, or leaving beauty behind in a world that sometimes forgets how to look for it.

Maybe this journal is part of that legacy. Maybe it’s enough to document the journey, to share what I’ve seen, what I’ve felt, and what I’ve learned along the way. And maybe, like that rock in the sea, something will remain long after the tide has passed.

– NV