Early morning walks on the west mesa have become routine these days. The frost rime hasn't melted away yet and the desert, in its stillness, is a peaceful place. The silence is broken only by the barking of the dogs as they chase rabbits.
I find the prints of a crow that wandered the wash. Maybe he found a mouse or maybe he wanted to reconnect with the earth, only to fly off and watch us from above.
I do love these mornings, these quiet times before the day begins.