On a recent afternoon, I walked to the back hill and set up a place for some watercolor-sketching. Got into the flow, just feeling the wind blowing, the sun slanting down on a late Autumn day.

And I loosely started capturing the forms of trees on the land. And in the middle of sketching, sandhill cranes flew over — high above the land, winging south.

If I had not put a simple folding camp chair on the back hill, I would not have heard the cranes, would not have witnessed their migrations. Seems we are often (or always) rewarded — some say blessed — with gifts when we get outside into nature, when we take some time.