There's a town in southern Minnesota...

where the air is sticky and the mosquitos thick. A steep cobbled road leads to the Root river, shallow in the summer but still running strong. Looking out over it are limestone bluffs. They look as if they were placed just so, piece by piece with small openings for the critters to peek out from. Driving through the trails on the 6 wheeler, holding on to the roll bar, a blue monarch butterfly floats by, dragonflies whiz, even a wild turkey. A lonesome cabin sits in a clearing, a family of pines nearby. We could sit for hours listening to the woodpecker's song. Then, a loud screech. A family of eagles is nesting in a tall pine tree overlooking the river. A mature bald one takes to the sky in a wide circumambular motion. Is it watching us? We trail down to the river bank, cast out and catch a few bass, throw them back, then join the fish for a swim. Backstroke, dog paddle, summersault. Nowhere to be but here.