Campfire Chat: The Birthday Month I Almost Missed

October and I have always had a thing.

It's probably my favorite month of the year, and not just because my birthday lands in it. Give me cool mornings, sunny afternoons without the humidity, changing leaves, and squirrels tearing around the yard like they've been assigned an impossible acorn quota. I'm happy.

Also, I don't do birthday days. Or birthday weeks. I do birthday months.

I've made birthday-month bucket lists. I've celebrated by exploring places I've never been, trying a winery, cooking something new (or, even better, Liam cooks it), and occasionally treating myself to something that's been sitting on my wish list. I rarely check off everything. That's never really been the point.

But this October was different.

I turned 50. And Field Trip turned two. Two milestones that, in a normal year, would have had me inventing new ways to celebrate.

Instead, both almost slipped by.

🎂 On My Mind: The Birthday Month I Almost Missed

I could give you plenty of practical reasons. October was packed. We traveled to Maine for my niece's wedding, saw family and friends, and brought my son back to South Carolina for a USPDGA event. There were bills and responsibilities, a business to run, and the assorted logistics of being an adult that nobody mentions in the birthday brochures.

But that wasn't the whole reason.

The truth is that things have been hard lately. Hard enough that I didn't always have the heart for celebrating. And if I'm being a little vulnerable, there were moments when I didn't really feel like I deserved it.

That's not an easy thing to admit. Especially for someone who can find a reason to celebrate a really good mushroom sighting.

As the month began winding down, I started to regret it.

Fifty is a big birthday!

And in this day and age, it's hardly the beginning of the end. There are still places I haven't visited, trails I haven't walked, books I haven't written, and more adventures than I could squeeze into a birthday bucket list the length of the Appalachian Trail.

I also have an awful lot that's worth celebrating right now.

🐿️ The Squirrels Might Have Been Trying to Tell Me Something

One of my latest stories, Squirrels Don't Get the Sunday Scaries, started with a passing thought: wildlife doesn't know what Monday is.

It ended somewhere much more personal: with questions about why we work so hard, what that work is supposed to make possible, and whether we give enough attention to the actual living part of our lives.

I've spent a lot of time this month working, worrying, and trying to hold things together. And somewhere along the way, I started treating celebration as something I had to earn. Something to schedule for later, when things were easier, the to-do list was shorter, or I felt a little more worthy of it.

Which, as it turns out, is a pretty effective way never to celebrate at all.

The squirrels in my yard haven't stopped gathering acorns just because I'm having an existential moment. They work hard because they have to. But watching them reminds me that a life is made of more than the work of keeping it going.

And then it occurred to me: Maybe October wasn't as uncelebrated as I thought.

❤️ Around the Campfire: I Was Celebrating All Along

I got to go back to Maine and see friends and family I love. I spent real, wonderful time with my oldest son at the biggest USPDGA event of the year. We were together, outdoors, doing something memorable. Turns out that counts as a pretty excellent birthday-month activity—even without calling it one.

I'm still madly in love with my husband. I mean the honeymoon-never-really-ended kind of love. We've built a life together that I genuinely love. It hasn't always been easy. But it's ours, and I wouldn't trade it.

I'm surrounded by people who love me, too. And I'm especially grateful that my mom is nearby. She's helped carry me through some of the hardest parts of this season. I don't say that lightly. There are things I simply don't think I'd be finding my way through without her.

There were conversations, meals, hugs, laughter, shared miles, and time with people I don't get to see nearly enough.

I hadn't made a bucket list, so none of those things got a satisfying little check mark.

But they happened. They mattered. And looking back, I realize I was celebrating a whole lot more than I knew.

🔥 Inside the Tent: Field Trip Is Two!

And then there's this wild little thing called Field Trip.

Two years ago, I launched a place for outdoor stories, conservation, curiosity, and the firm belief that connecting with nature should feel more like a field trip and less like a guilt trip.

I couldn't have predicted how deeply it would feed me.

Field Trip has become a place to put my questions, my experience, my love of the outdoors, and my belief in people to good use. It's brought some wonderful humans into my world, including a small but absolutely amazing team I couldn't—and wouldn't want to—do this without.

Building it has been equal parts exhilarating, exhausting, and humbling. This year hasn't been particularly gentle. But we're here. We're growing. We keep asking better questions and finding stories worth telling.

And because apparently two years of building something wasn't enough of a birthday present, there's another reason to celebrate: we've been working (hard) behind the scenes on some changes to Field Trip.

Nothing that changes who we are or what we believe. More about how we show up—how you experience Field Trip and how we tell the stories we love.

The work has been long, hard, and, frankly, overdue. It's also something I'm incredibly excited about. I'm not giving away the surprises just yet, but I can tell you this: the heart of Field Trip isn't going anywhere.

No permission slip needed. That part is staying.

🧭 Trail Markers: Big News, Bigger Questions

While I was contemplating my birthday celebrations, the rest of the world was busy giving us plenty to talk about.

America has a newly designated national park: Chiricahua, in Arizona. I'm genuinely excited about that. But a new title doesn't automatically bring the staffing or funding a treasured landscape needs. I say celebrate the recognition and ask what we're doing to care for the place.

Then came the sobering climate news about 1.5°C. That one deserved more than a catchy headline and a shrug of defeat. The news is serious. But every fraction of warming we can prevent still matters, and we still have meaningful ways to act.

I've noticed a theme in both stories: We can feel more than one thing at once. Joy and concern. Gratitude and frustration. Hope and a very realistic appreciation of what still needs fixing.

Apparently October has been teaching me that lesson in my personal life, too.

🦇 After Dark: Give the Night Shift Its Due

One more reason to love this month: Bat Week runs October 24–31, and we're celebrating with a week of facts, unusual bat faces, and easy ways to help them.

Some bats eat insects. Others pollinate plants and disperse seeds. Here at home, planting native species helps support the insects our local bats need. And thoughtful outdoor lighting helps protect the darkness so many animals depend on.

That last bit connects nicely with our story, The Dark Isn't Scary. Losing It Is.

You can also find hands-on ideas in the official Bat Week activities. It's a lovely excuse for a tiny field trip after sunset. You might even spot the night shift clocking in.

🎒 Packing Out: There Is Still Time

Here's where my little end-of-month pity party landed.

I wanted October to look like a big birthday celebration. A bucket list. A few indulgences. New places. Maybe something delicious coming out of the oven.

Instead, I got a month full of family, hard things, meaningful work, reminders of how loved I am, and a two-year-old company that means more to me than I can adequately explain.

It wasn't the celebration I planned.

Maybe it was a better one.

And the month isn't over. There is still time for a walk among the changing leaves, a recipe Liam and I haven't tried, a little outdoor exploring, or an hour watching the squirrels ready for winter.

Mostly, I want to remember that celebration doesn't require life to be easy first. And that being here, loving people and being loved, building something that matters, and noticing the beauty in an ordinary October afternoon are pretty good reasons to celebrate all by themselves.

Here's to fifty. Here's to two. Here's to what comes next.

See you out there. 🔥

— Kayt