How about a bit of a poem from Mary Oliver and some images from a morning at a friend’s place in the Northwoods of Wisconsin. To get the full flavor, you should read the whole poem: Mornings at Blackwater, from Red Bird, 2008, Mary Oliver.
. . . .
What I want to say is
that the past is the past,
and the present is what your life is,
and you are capable
of choosing what that will be,
So come to the pond,
or the river of your imagination,
or the harbor of your longing,
and put your lips to the world.