Air bright with sun-charged droplets floods the valleys. Wind kicks up, the sun climbs higher, and the turmoil and energy spur on the clouds, ripple lagoons, quicken the glittering rivers and compel small, new goats into battle for the top of ... whatever. A concrete block, maybe, if that's all their field's got. Flowers bust open, frothing with beauty. And when the storm passes, when the clouds and rain have swept aside, the earth is freshly painted: blue for the sky, green for the earth and mountains, white for the snow-dusted peaks. Your canvas awaits, Humboldt.
— Heidi Walters