And then - there's that brilliant...blinding morning light.
The kind of light you hope you might see.
The kind of light fore-telling.
The valley below sits - still - in fog.
The air is warm and wet and heavy.
It feels like late July. It's - now - late September.
And - the cows wake.
No matter what - their day is only just beginning.
I squint. I blink.
The landscape reflects back an array of extraordinary color.
I look away...and return and look back again.
The sun is high. The day's begun. This moment's passed.
It's now another.