Many can be brought to tears by a field full of wildflower glory and radiant color. For me, a field of grass inspires in such a way. Plain brown stalks of seeds catch a million shades of brown and gold in the sun’s soft light, and its this sight that awakens my senses like nothing else.

It’s a perfect day in mid-September. The grass is blowing in the wind, the sun is shining down, and it all takes my breath away. I see a cloudless Colorado azure sky above, and the mixed variant colors of leaves beginning to change their hues. Mostly mixes of green and yellow, they still carry the faint scent of summer life, though some have grown a crispy golden and fallen. The quaking leaves are framed by the chalky bark of their aspen parents.

I feel a strong breeze touch my skin, rustling the hairs of my bare arms. It’s a bit of an unusual characteristic, but I love wind. Its power captivates, fascinates, and even comforts me, probably one many reasons autumn is my favorite season. I hear the river meander by, low and peaceful.

Days like today bring the taste of remembrance of all things good. Without setting any conscious intention, my chin lifts, my breathing deepens, my step finds a spring, and my eyes gain a sparkle. I came to this moment without agenda or expectation, but it met me, awakening my senses with its presence.