It's the simple things that keep life in perspective, like these: The solitude and quiet of a summer morning, with dawn creeping in: a slightly cooler, humid, respite from a hot day ahead. A surprise coyote crossing Highway 54 near the Chevrolet dealership, 7 a.m., earlier this morning. A hot Sunday afternoon drive to a [...]

It's the simple things that keep life in perspective, like these:
The solitude and quiet of a summer morning, with dawn creeping in: a slightly cooler, humid, respite from a hot day ahead.
A surprise coyote crossing Highway 54 near the Chevrolet dealership, 7 a.m., earlier this morning.
A hot Sunday afternoon drive to a friend's home in the country, the cool-green cornfields holding out the hope of a bounteous harvest ahead.
A fast, yet conversational ride with a friend after an absence of recent miles together and the bonus of a Baltimore oriole crossing the road, bright orange and beautiful.
A slow ride to the lake with your lover, as evening sun creeps lower in the sky, spotlighting a Northern cardinal singing, high up on a power line pole.
Any sunset out on the Kansas prairie, coloring a few clouds up high, with view unobstructed, except perhaps by a grain silo, a tall elevator, or a windmill off in the distance.
It's always good to set aside the busyness of life, the technology that digitizes and consumes our days, and with eyes open see, once again, the simple things of life (and not forgetting to thank the One who allowed us to see, who allowed it all to happen).