And Cue: Polite Smile.

The room recedes. The voices fade into the background and I'm alone. My vision pans over the horizon, and I smile at the familiarity of the scene. I pull my knees up under my chin and breathe contentment. My toe wiggles in the dirt. The rough grains of the soil grind into my heels as I stretch as far as my skin will allow. The sun smiles on my back and I roll onto my stomach to examine an intricate ant mound.

The rocks around me are enormous. I've been coming to this place for a long time, and each visit I'm greeted with different colors, different weather, different animals. The wind howls sometimes, the wind and the slashing rain. Once snow swirled around the rock tips. I sat and watched the flakes melt as they landed on the stone. Lightning comes too, the slash of angry heat slicing the gnarled trees apart. But today the sun shines.

I watch a bird soar on a thermal. In this place, I'm completely content to remain on the ground. I take a leaf into my hand and bring it close to my face. The veins come into focus. I smile at the colors vibrating from the piece of plant. It falls from my hand and flutters into the canyon. I watch it until it fades from view over the edge.

I walk to the tree that grows over the rim. The bark is rough and catches my skin. Patterns are grooved into the trunk from years of rough weather and brilliant sunlight. A single branch hangs out over the drop. I reach up and swing out onto it, my legs pedaling briefly in the air.

A caterpillar crawls along a stem in front of my perch. I watch it as it rears to take another step, than drops off the stem. My hand flashes out to catch it, and I almost fall off too. But we are both safe, and I release the furry creature onto the branch. I run my fingers along his back and he arches up to walk on my hand. The fur tickles my palm.

I lean my head back to meet the tree. The sun has warmed the wood, and my eyelids start to close. My fingers grasp the branch to keep from falling. I hear a bird's call. It sounds strangely close, and I open my eyes. Its wings make loud slapping noises as the animal flies away with the caterpillar held firmly in his beak.

I heave a sigh and swing my legs out to meet the dirt. Instead of making contact with the soil, my feet hit hard linoleum. Voices advance into my brain again, and the bright artifical lights assault my eyes. I smile and nod sympathetically with the wizened lady still talking about her recently removed hernia.

It seems my happy place has nothing on modern surgical technology.