This is Saskatchewan

Watch the shimmering walleye wander through the crystal blue of Lac la Ronge. 

Listen to the roar of a hidden waterfall, on an undiscovered river, deep within the Shield, and the crackle of fresh fillet, frying over the red and orange splash of beauty dancing on an island of solitude, under the starry sky.

Gaze upon the ribbon of colour dancing across the consuming night platform, stealing attention from all reality.

Pay close attention to the golden wheat standing tall and willow-like, in a warm, welcoming breeze, dancing to the song of harvest.

Hear the near inaudible buzz of a crop duster in the distance, passing miles of field, positioned where the never ending blue sky and stretching green field meet in a subtle friendship. 

Taste the tantalizing, sweet fried onions and butter, boundlessly tossed upon an unrealistic portion of torrid, cheesy perogies, with a scent lingering for hours.  

Lose yourself in a heroic attempt to find an isolated town, in the middle of nowhere, too small to be named on a map, but friendly enough to make the search worth the hassle. 

Shamelessly flaunt the green and white that represents who we truly are. 

A Roughrider. 

Foolishly gamble on the fickle weather, which a farmer's entire year depends upon.  

Drive through the rolling green hills of Qu' Appelle valley, feeling the pop of your ears, but too occupied by the inconsistency of the wave-like land. 

Love the stream of colour flooding the pale blue sky, and note the earthy smell that marks a deceased storm, now nothing but a null memory. 

Take time to gaze upon the brilliant orange lily, oh so delicate and forbidden; Holding mystery in its elegant, silky petals.  

Never take for granted what makes us whole.

This is Saskatchewan.