In one week, I had the opportunity to visit two very different and equally memorable cities: Savannah, Georgia, and Austin, Texas. Both offered unexpected moments of beauty, connection, and wonder. And both reminded me just how much gratitude for nature can shift the way we experience the world.
Savannah has always been one of my favorite places, but this visit held something extra special. I wasn’t just there to speak for a wonderful group; I was also able to bring my mom along for a little “corporate-sponsored family time.”
At 82, she was greeted with warmth everywhere we went. People welcomed her as if she were part of the event itself. Watching her light up as strangers held doors, greeted her by name, and made room for her at their tables reminded me how generous people can be when they choose kindness.
And in Savannah, nature seems to collaborate in that kindness. The Spanish moss draping from ancient oaks, the slow rhythm of the river, the soft breeze cutting through the Southern heat… it all makes you breathe a little slower, listen a little closer, and appreciate the moment a little more.
This trip reminded me that gratitude for nature doesn’t always require mountains or beaches. Sometimes it’s simply the setting that softens a day, opens a heart, or creates space for connection.
Then came Austin – a city that proudly claims its weirdness. And nothing displays its quirky identity better than its most famous residents: 1.5 million Mexican free-tailed bats who live under the Congress Avenue Bridge.
In the 1980s, when the bridge was rebuilt, the new design unintentionally created the perfect bat sanctuary. At first, locals panicked. They feared disease, damage, danger. There were even conversations about removing or exterminating the bats.
But instead of reacting out of fear, conservationists and city leaders leaned into curiosity. They studied the bats. They educated the public. And Austin eventually embraced its winged neighbors.
Today, those bats consume an estimated 30,000 pounds of insects every night (yes, every night!) and draw crowds from all over the world.
The first time I tried to see them, it was mating season, and the bats stayed hidden. No flight, no show, just a quiet, slightly disappointing evening under a bridge.
But this time?
Pure. Magic.
As dusk settled, you could hear the soft rustle of movement beneath the bridge. The smell of guano drifted through the air (nature isn’t always glamorous!), and then suddenly the sky shifted.
For thirty mesmerizing minutes, tens of thousands of bats poured into the air in flowing, semi-perfect formation, like a living ribbon across the sky. A steady, pulsing stream of wings.
I even remembered to keep my mouth closed. Just in case.
It was strange. A little messy. And absolutely unforgettable.
Moments like this remind me how often beauty lives in the unexpected. How frequently awe shows up disguised as something unusual or even inconvenient. And how important it is to pause long enough to appreciate what nature is offering.
The more we pay attention, the more we notice that gratitude for nature isn’t limited to postcard views or famous destinations.
Sometimes it’s:
Nature has a way of showing up even when we’re not looking for it, and giving us far more than we seek.
What’s your favorite quirky or awe-inspiring moment in nature?
I’d love to hear about the places or experiences that surprised you, grounded you, or made you look up in wonder.
