Long ago, I drove/flew/drove to a motel in the town on the western edge of Rocky Mountain National Park in Colorado. Soon afterwards, I hiked into the park, admired an alpine lake, ate a trail lunch, and hiked out in a thunderstorm that mocked my “waterproof” boots. Nothing epic, but well beyond me now. That’s OK. I did it once (which was more than enough for the thunderstorm part).
Some people consider it a miracle when the government does something right. Over the years since that trip to Colorado, the EPA adopted (and enforced!) vehicle emissions standards. I can walk the roads near my house w/o being assaulted by trucks and school buses belching black diesel crud. Their exhaust is still smelly and unhealthy, but not bad enough to ruin a walk on a breezy day. So I can often walk about 1.5 miles to the far end of an artificial pond beside the road. An artificial pond ringed by hilly pasture land is not the same as a natural lake ringed by mountains, but water is water and blue sky is blue sky.
After a few rainy days, excess water in the pond rushes thru a culvert under the road and into the little brook that was dammed to create the pond. I can admire the exuberant splashing on the rocks in the brook w/o dwelling on the artificiality of the scene.
Sound of Sunlight
Rushing waters bring
joy to those who hear them sing
and see them sparkle.