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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