At least once every summer, we go camping in the mountains. These are the mountains I used to camp in as a small child, the mountains where my Dad worked every summer as a musician during the 1950s, the mountains where my parents met.
We choose a campsite on a small lake where motorboats or jet skis have been banned. I think the restriction on motorized craft has something to do with the nesting loons, but humans as well as loons need quiet time, whether or not we are breeding.
The lake has an island in the middle, with a big rock that is fun to jump off, and we usually canoe out to the island for an afternoon of swimming. In the morning or early afternoon, I like to walk around the edges of the shallow lake, watching minnow through the clear water. Or sometimes I just sit somewhere by the edge of the lake with my journal.
Even young kids need those quiet moments for pondering life. Here's a photo of my son, staring into the water, having a contemplative moment.