By Scott Shephard

If you drive far enough along a rough, single-lane, no-outlet gravel road in the Black Elk Wilderness in western South Dakota, you come to a place that seems impervious to the noise of politics and pandemics. Absent are the sometimes strident voices of the Trumps, the Bidens, the Limbaughs and the Maddows. Even the sound of the wind struggles to disturb this special place, which is protected by rocks and trees.

But there is sound here, including the sound of my breath and beating heart, which, after scampering down a bedewed slippery slope with heavy photo equipment, are both louder at age 66 than they might have been a decade or two ago. The other sounds are those of squirrels chattering to each other and birds celebrating another day. And, of course, there is the muted sound of Iron Creek, which is running low after a dry August and September.

But just before I capture this image, I hold my breath and all sounds disappear except for the brief sound of the camera shutter. And after that, the sounds of the forest and stream return. But in this moment, I have disappeared. Perfect.

Will you join me here today? We are socially distanced. We are safe. You don’t need to wear a mask. And, because we are good friends, we won’t even feel compelled to talk to one another.

Stand here, enjoy the moment, count your blessings and smile.

Canon 5DIII 1/13sec f8.0 ISO200