desert morning

It’s Friday morning, 5:30, and the temperature is a cool 80°. It’s not really cool by normal standards, but when the day heats up to 105° it feels pretty cool.

I’m sitting here in my camp chair, coffee cup in hand, watching the full moon sink down to the western horizon, watching the sun paint the eastern horizon with bands of blue and salmon. I can’t help but realize, and be thankful for, the life I live here in the low desert of southern California.

Now it’s getting light enough to get out for a morning walk with the dog, greet the sun as it pokes up over the mountains, and feel the desert air on my skin. So that’s what I’ll do.


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