As each monotonous winter day repeated itself, the “golf itch” became impossible to ignore.

Eventually the Psychic found himself making occasional visits to a neighborhood golf simulator. He never became a regular. He learned to appreciate the simple pleasure of hitting a well-struck golf shot into a simulator screen. The computer generated second shots were as interesting as real green grass golf.

The weekly TGL matches, played into the gargantuan screen at the SoFi Center, added fuel to simulator fire. Week after week the matches featured surreal golf holes (in a cave or risk/reward target golf holes) created in the minds of golf course designers and digital artists.

The Psychic has visualized golf holes since he started playing. For years, a single mature tree in the middle of a meadow could be a target or the edge of a hazard.

On a recent road trip across Nebraska, it happened again.

At first, it was nothing more than a rolling cattle ranch beneath a brilliant prairie sky.  A pasture. A distant hilltop.

Then – the architect inside him took over. He was not looking at a cattle ranch. He was seeing a golf hole; a ‘natural hole’, designed by Mother Nature herself. No sketches. No bulldozers.

The distant plateau, a fairway, on an uphill dogleg-right par four. A tree-filled depression, carved over thousands of years by wind and water erosion, guarded the approach. In his mind, the Psychic could clearly see a narrow green tucked just beyond the ravine and slightly right of the crest.

The Psychic smiled as he captured the image with his iPhone.

Two days later, he sat before his trusted crystal ball. His concentration intense with his chin settled onto intertwined fingers as the mist filled crystal ball cleared. The cattle ranch image slowly transformed before his eyes. The cattle ranch remained. The hills remained. The ravine remained.

Nothing was altered except for the beautifully striped fairway, mowed on the exact angle as the dogleg created by the ravine. The flagstick bent in the prairie wind. The hole looked as though it had existed for centuries.

The image of the ‘natural hole’was transported into an ultra-modern simulator screen. A high-tech putting surface shifted contours beneath the golfer’s feet, much like the TGL green.

Glowing in the morning sunlight, was the Nebraska Cattle Ranch Golf Hole, the very hole Mother Nature had created in the Psychic’s mind while driving a lonely highway.

“Wow,” he whispered.

“The golf hole I saw out of the corner of my eye is now being played – on a simulator.” The graphics are flawless. The terrain is exact. The wind conditions changed daily. Spring rains softened the landing areas. Drought hardened the fairways. Autumn painted the grass gold.

The hole was alive, “Just like real golf.”

The Psychic suddenly remembers a previous vision.

A stick. A ball. A rabbit hole.

Five hundred years ago shepherds wandering the links land of Scotland saw rabbit holes and imagined – a game.

Soon golfers will do exactly the same thing, only this time they will have help from Artificial Intelligence.

The Psychic gazes deeper and sees golfers traveling through the Alps, New Zealand, Patagonia and the African savannah.

They were searching for ‘natural golf holes’. Photographs are taken. AI will analyze the terrain, elevation changes, vegetation, prevailing winds and seasonal conditions. Within minutes, each discovery will become a playable simulator hole.

Not fantasy. Not make-believe. Just a faithful re-creation of a golf hole designed entirely by Mother Nature.

The Psychic watched as thousands of these holes were added to an ever-growing library.

As simulators continue to command more golfer’s rounds, they won’t simply choose a golf course. They will choose their own golf adventure.

The Psychic chuckled, “For more than a century, golf architects have labored to make golf courses look natural. The future will reverse the process.”

Golfers will discover nature’s golf holes and let technology do the rest.

With the worn turban removed and the know-it-all sphere covered, the Psychic wandered to the bar for his traditional Arnold Palmer – just a touch of Ketel One Vodka.

Pausing for a moment, he looked back toward the crystal ball.

“I wonder,” he said with a grin, “If Mother Nature has already designed a replacement for my Arnold Palmer.”

With the first long sip, the Psychic believes the day will come when golfers will travel the world looking for amazing ‘natural holes’ for simulators.