If the sight of the blue skies fills you with joy, if a blade of grass springing up in the fields has the power to move you, if the simple things in nature have a message you understand, rejoice for your soul is alive. ~ Elenore Duse

I consider myself to be fortunate as a nature lover.

I do not live on the edge of Yosemite’s majestic landscape nor near the expansive red mazes of Canyonlands National Park, although living near those parks would be a thrill. I do not live near the coastal craggy rocks of Maine nor the sandy beaches of North Carolina, although a bit of time spent gazing at the relentless waves of the Atlantic is on my to-do list. The redwood forests near the Pacific coast have long been a soul-attraction for me, and when I walked under their canopies, I felt as close to a spiritual awakening as I ever have. I have traveled the United States from north to south and east to west, and I’ve fallen in love with so many varied places.

And I am truly blessed. I have a home in a valley near Tucson. When I drive a few miles to the east, I reach the top of a Sky Island in the Santa Rita Mountain Range. I can see the surrounding desert from an altitude of nearly 10,000 feet. When I drive a few miles towards the west, I am in the Sonoran Desert, a landscape that speaks directly to me and provides me with a hard-to-describe centering experience. That is half of my great fortune, and one I appreciate deeply in the winter and early spring.

Now I’m focusing on the other half of my fortune, experiencing the land I’ve lived in and enjoyed for nearly thirty years, but with which I’d never deeply bonded. This summer I am discovering, through the simple act of a daily walk in the early morning, that the beauty of nature can be found everywhere and anywhere. All I had to do was look around me and appreciate the simple things in nature.

I am truly fortunate to live only a few minutes walking distance from a pond formed in the last glacial era which ended nearly 12,000 years ago, and was  coincidentally called the Wisconsin Glacier Era. Stricker’s Pond is a kettle pond, a pond formed when a chunk of ice settled in a pocket during the last glacier, and then melted and became a shallow pond when the climate warmed.

On my mile walk around the pond I see Little Green Herons, Blue Herons, Mallards, Canada Geese, Wood Ducks, and many other species of birds, amphibians and small animals. There are aquatic plants in the pond, shore plants along the edges, and a recovering mesic prairie stretching north, filled with compass plants, purple coneflowers, Queen Anne’s Lace, chicory, common mullein, purple lupine, and a half-dozen grasses.

Part of my walk takes me through an ancient stand of oaks where I catch glimpses of critters scurrying through the lush green undergrowth, and find patches of wood lilies and sunflowers fringing the woods’ edge, flowers that lift my heart in gladness.

What a feast for the senses, and all within walking distance of my backyard. Wow!

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Bo Mackison is a photographer and the owner of Seeded Earth Studio LLC. Yes, wow!