She beckons the butterflies with her sultry, dark “eyes” as she sways with the gentle breeze. She’s been in these fields for hundreds of years; she’s withstood the test of time. She’s simple and sturdy and wild and free. She stands tall and proud among the long waving grass. Her seeds, carried, in a strong prairie wind. She’ll be back next year, dotting the landscape with her sunny face and sultry, dark “eyes.”

“They don’t make ’em like they used to,” the old man said with a grin. And deep down I knew he was right. Back then, things were more simple. People were more simple. Life was more simple. And some things seemed to last forever. It was a time when summer meant riding bikes, playing in puddles, fishing in streams, and smelling fresh laundry as it blew in the breeze. It was when simple meant a stick shift and a single cab with a bench seat.

Simple is always being able to just jump in, turn the key and go. Simple is that old, faithful truck that always starts and whisks you away in the blink of an eye.

Now is the time to plan your escape. Time to leave the mixed up world behind, if just for a short while. Maybe it’s a dream you’ve always had. Maybe it’s lands of rolling green hills and cloudy gray skies that suddenly drop to the sea. Or maybe it’s somewhere you’ve already been; a trip back in time as you climb mountains so high to find aspen dripping with moss.

Wherever it is, a hill or a mountain, find your place of calm. Draw a deep breath and be still. Treasure and enjoy the peace that awaits for those who take time to seek it.

They fill the air with music, these old practiced hands. It’s music that floats gently above the din of the busy market. It swirls overhead as the old man smiles. He’s been on that bench every weekend I can remember, sharing his musical gift. He laughs while children dance, his fingers dancing with them.

Joy comes not just from his music but from the bright colors in his shirt. From the jaunty cap perched on his head. And from the twinkle and shine in his eyes. Moments will forever be filled with music from old practiced hands.

This is a secret place. A place you can only find if you really look. But it holds so many wonders. There is so much color. So much pattern. So much texture. So much contrast. And there’s more than meets the eye in this small place.

It’s what you can imagine. It’s what you can dream. It’s a place that can inspire if you let it. Allow yourself to be swept away to this secret place. It will lead you home.

Nature has a way of reminding us that no matter how bad things may get, better days will follow. It just takes time, a little bit of faith, and sometimes, even determination. And it might be two steps forward and one step back. Our lives might be like the first crocus in spring. We start to see the bright sun and warmth only to be covered again by the weight of snow. But that doesn’t mean we stop. It means we push ahead. We may stumble or even pause for a moment, but that’s ok as long as we eventually move forward.

Nature reminds us, with all its colorful glory, that we will get by. That beauty will always be around us, we just have to look a bit harder. Sometimes we have to weather an unexpected storm and pause before we can see it.