Behind my modern southeastern Wisconsin house, there are miles and miles of woods. Hidden between stern tree trunks, a peaceful pond rests. The pond is natural and split by cattails that over the years have fallen and compacted to make a tiny bridge over a thin stream.

The standing cattails sway in the subtle breeze. The trees surrounding the pond are transitioning to their fall, mystical colors. Behind the pond, up on a hill, is a rusty old train track rarely used. The tiniest bugs fly around the pond. I see the critters return to their nesting places when the night creatures emerge. The perfect time to go to the pond is while the sun is sets behind the trees. At dusk, there is minimal noise, nothing but the night chills rolling across the tree branches. No way for the outside world to bother the peaceful atmosphere.

With stress running through my veins, I know it’s time to head back to the pond. Seeing the lightning bugs’ light reflect off the darkened surface water fills me with comfort. Golden lights flash between the trees, the hue a juxtaposition to the fading sky. Yellow, like the sun, burns down on people during the hottest summer days. The blinking lights cast a faint glow. Fireflies provide a glimmer, in even the darkest of nights. They represent a beacon of childhood nights spent with hands open-wide, clutching a prize in my sweaty palms. I’m struck with an urge to grab one.

A light flashes near my head; I strike out and snatch it. The bug’s legs tickle my hand, like the brush of a feather. I uncurl my fingers to reveal the creature. His body lightens up in goodbye, filling my hand with the brilliant hue. His wings open and he flies away.

The lights flicker in the distance, welcoming him with open arms. I smile, enjoying the feeling of nostalgia. My chest warms like I’m sitting by a fire. Nature provides me with a feeling I `don’t often come across—the innocence of childhood revamped in my heart. This is a feeling I can now appreciate due to the toils of modern life.

I look up in the sky, the colors bleeding into my irises. The inky darkness of the clouds overshadows the bright orange sky fading to pink. My parents call my name, wondering where I wandered off. But for now, I enjoy this moment of peace. I yearn for days when life was simpler, with less stress worry about getting work done and more time being curious about the world around me. These sounds relax me, recreated by a sound machine that transports me to this paradise when the snow coats the ground in brilliant white. I am calm, content to return to the house, sustained by the soothing sounds provided by Mother Nature.