Having hit the sack relatively early (a drawback of being solo and not chatting into the evening around a fire), I was well-rested as I awoke to catch the sun chasing the moon on the eastern horizon. One of my favorite times of day, I climbed out of the tent and sent a mental message to the burros to shut the hell up. There were approximately 20 of them in the valley, and they'd been going at it all night. I found myself yearning for the last trip - where we'd not seen a single burro - clearly a blessing…
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