Sitting in a broom weed patch with cockleburs just below my toes. Indiangrass valley opens wide to my right. The wind is at my back, chilly, but not cold. Silence resounds, reality abounds, gratefulness resides. I am grateful for this land that is open to the public, grateful for a place to sit in nature’s quiet. The sun has come out. This has become a favorite stop spot.   Just sitting here is enough for now.   Just saw a whitetail buck. I am alone. I hear crickets. Big blustem and Indiangrass seedheads abound. I collected some. I find it kind of amazing I have this natural area all to myself.  I always do. I may not be in Colorado but I am in a place I love. Grass is tall, winter tan color. I am feeling One Biota.  Feel the beauty here, feel the prairie, the grass, the sun, the wind, the rocks, the geese, and hawks. Now I sit in Spring Valley. The spring is running but does not come out the pipe anymore. Now I am walking across the top. I see the valley home, I know the valley home. I stop to look at rocks. This thought comes: you’ll never know what you didn’t find, that’s what keeps me looking.