Glacier National Park has a way of feeling larger than life, a place where mountains and lakes aren’t just scenery but a reminder that nature has stood the test of time, an enduring sovereignty. Known as the “Crown of the Continent,” this vast wilderness stretches across the northern Rockies, where jagged peaks meet clear, icy waters, and the air itself seems impossibly clean and alive.

We dipped into the glacier-fed lake, letting the cold water shock and wake us (it was unbearably cold). It was a baptism of sorts, a reminder that these landscapes have existed long before us and will persist long after. The glacier water rushed over our skin and left goosebumps that lasted quite-a-while, but we were just happy to be a part of this centurial story. 

There is humility in swimming here, in feeling the sheer scale of mountains around you and the patience of glaciers that move inch by inch over centuries. Here, the crown is not gold or jewels, but rather, adorned in immersible emeralds set in stone. In these moments, you are both infinitesimal and deeply connected, a guest in a world that feels sacred.

And as I moved my paintbrush to the paper I realized, Glacier National Park isn’t just a destination; it’s a reminder that nature’s grandeur is both fleeting and eternal. An errant reign of sorts, with humble, empty hands that are full only of the lands quiet keeping.  And sometimes, to honor it, all you need is to wade into a glacier-fed lake or capture it in brushstrokes. And remember that life feels most alive when you are fully present in a place like this.