Morning Thanks--Morning Light

Early on, the eastern skies were brimming with promise. A long flat overcast was slowly drifting out towards Hospers and Granville, promising (I thought) to really light up when our terra firma turned slightly farther toward Old Sol. I pulled out a camera, fixed the tripod, and took a couple of shots because I expected the dawn that did arrive and then some. But far more quickly it left, never quite living up to its promise. 

It wasn't the dawn's fault that the Floyd River is, for the most part, less than knee-deep. There's just not much to light up right now, and there won't be until this dry spell creeps away.

Still, when morning comes everything wears a gold cape, all nature sings, if it's just for a moment, as it was this morning. 

Best of show? This last one, not because it's such an excellent shot but because the moral to the story is not so much about the Great Plains as it is about the phenomenon of dawn. In the bright face of mornings like this--even the ones that slip away quickly-- it's a really a challenge not to wonder "what is man, that thou art mindful of him?" Our place is a but a blip acreage somewhere beneath the immense tangerine canvas of his grace.