The hillside was a vibrant, luscious green this time of year. As the hours flew by, the bees never seemed to run out of energy, the flowers never seemed tired of their constant dance. Trees stood as sentries at the bottom of the hill, protecting all that lived there from harm. They sang to one another, changing their song as the wind shifted. On the hillside a hummingbird flew around. Its ruby throat and green wings caught the sunlight, lighting up its unique colors like a mosaic. Anyone who stumbled into this paradise could surely never leave. An army of ants marched out of a miniscule hole in the ground, branching off in different directions in a never ending search for food. The animals continued their journeys, monarchs flitting by, bees searching for a bit of nectar. A sudden quiet came on the hillside, a slow pausing of the daily scurrying of mice and rabbits. The wind had slowed, almost to a stop. The sun started sinking, signalling to the animals that the day’s trials and adventures had completed. One by one, the birds flew quickly to their nests, the mice and rabbits went back to their holes and warrens. The bees once again found their hives. Finally, it was close to empty. That was when the bats came out, rejoicing in the empty night air. They flew around each other in an elaborate game, or perhaps it was a dance. The hillside was peaceful. It always was, a calming presence in a hectic world. A more natural place could not be found, a more beautiful haven, there was not. The hillside was perfect.