Picture this. Everyone is winding down for the night, getting ready to abandon conversation for sleep. But you aren't quite ready for bed and find yourself walking down the trail to a nearby meadow. The first thing that greets you is an orange glow from the sun setting in a hazy sky. Mountains rise tall and proud above a long valley that stretches to the state line. Their growing shadows are the only respite from the fiery gaze of the sun. Flowers and meadow grasses extend above your head, their colors brilliant and blazing as they fight for pollinators' attention. Aspens whisper into the soft evening breeze, barely perceptible over the constant rush of the creek. 

In this moment existence is suspended and time eternal. To look away is to break the spell. Alas, at your back, the ever-darkening trees beckon. Within lies the promise of sleep after a hard day's work and who are you to ignore that call? Slowly, reluctantly your body turns, feet following the dusty path once more, and that moment in the meadow is simply a memory.