from Mountains of Light
Rising from my sleeping bag,
I crawl out of the tent to take a dawn hike around the frosted meadows for an
hour or so. The sun peeks over Glacier Point and lights up the bare granite rock
of North Dome and the meadow below with a warm yellow glow.
In Cook’s Meadow, acorn
woodpeckers hop up the trunks of dead trees, picking out acorns they stored
there in the fall. By Sentinel Bridge, three young bucks are hanging out
looking for trouble; their snorts come out in white puffs.
