When I was young, I used to ride my horse Dutchess into the tall meadows and disappear into my dreams. I’d lie in the grass looking skyward, and wonder at the powerful clouds that gathered in the mid-western skies. I’d see faces, create stories, doze off and then waken, pondering the notion that after all, these puffy wonders were nothing more than water vapor, soon to send rain drops my way. The sky would rumble, lightning would split the air. Time to go, time to reconsider and think again.

Things are not always what they seem. Sometimes, they can be much, much more.

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