YELLOWSTONE
Theresa Manocchia
The soft gurling of the river follows our tentative steps in the semi-darkness of pre-dawn.
In the eastern sky, a pale light outlines and defines the contour of the mountain range,
still only a suggestion of what's to come. The valley remains in darkness and shelters the
creatures of the wild already restless. Muffled sounds betray their presence all around. We
spook a herd of elk and for a moment we follow their flight into a dense wooded area at the
edge of the valley until they melt again in darkness ...
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