There was scant time today for hiking because the Main Event was a party at my daughter Kirsten's house to celebrate my son Caleb's 48th birthday. That I've somehow gotten old enough to have a kid pushing the half-century mark is both sobering and hard-to-believe, and amidst the joy and the festivities, the melancholy song "Who Knows Where the Time Goes?" written by Sandy Denny, of Fairport Convention, bubbled up in the surprisingly chilly, late-July air. But this was neither the time nor the place to reflect on that question. There was a party going on, and as my granddaughter Stasia flew by on the zip line that my son-in-law Dennis had put in place, a seven-year-old's whoops of delight put any untoward thoughts about the passage of years, for good or ill, into perspective. Stasia has everything in front of her, and she's clearly enjoying the zip. May we all!