Morning Crossing

Begins the deer-crossing time of day just as dawn seeps into the unruly line of hills east of my home.  Trees emerge from the darkness first.  Bullpine standing there with arms and fists held out.  Then sagebrush slowly appearing like puffs of green smoke frozen in place.   Then bunchgrass just as the sun swells orange and yellow inside the clouds where they lay extended across the hills.  And finally, three mule deer detach from the solidifying landscape and cross the grassy span before me as I stand watching.

Of this I never tire.

--Mitchell Hegman