When did I become this modern? When did we start to think of likes instead of memories? If only there was a place, out in the open, untouched by man. With pink shades of clouds, maybe a lake. Mostly a mountain, for you and me. We watch the sun rise as the worries of life drift away. That’s the power of the sun rising, with the deer frolicking on the shore of the lake. The birds chirp with the wind. We leave and come back again, wondering how we forget this place.