It is still dark, pitch dark. The only lights are distant headlights traveling along US Hwy 160, the southern route across Colorado from Walsenburg on the east, (a town few have her of), to its polar opposite in the west, Durango. A caveat for living in this rural community is its thundering silence. At this hour, 4:20 am even the rabbits, deer, and occasional bobcat are lying dormant. Only the swish of a fastly moving car breaks through the muted air.
Stars are so faint it makes me think my cataracts have grown back. A house light across the valley twinkles from the gently swaying trees. Our yard is abundant with pinion, juniper and cedar trees. Hundreds of live trees as tall as our two story house decorate the landscape. There are many dead trees waiting to become firewood.
Ay, FIREWOOD, I better quit writing and get the already chopped firewood in the lean to I had built. With only five days til departure, I gotts a lot to do. See you tomorrow. Thanks for reading,,,