scottsdale, arizona

Sunlight reaches for the mountain. Coyote sings good morning.

This morning, for the first time in twenty years, I wrote a poem. I was inspired by being awakened to the sound of a coyote howling nearby and then the answering chorus of what sounded like hundreds across the valley. It was spine tingling.

I took a walk and indulged myself by taking lots of photographs of cactus, or cacti, if you prefer.