A gentle rain began to fall, and for the next few minutes I sat at the the bluff's edge under an umbrella in the sweet pre-dawn light and looked up and down the valley of the Buffalo at the clouds gliding along the river's course counter to its flow, spilling around the edge of Cave Mountain from the east and north, drifting left to right in front of me, and finally surging among the points and coves of the Buffalo wilderness miles to the south. And that was just the beginning of that morning's light show.
I've visited this bluff overlooking the Buffalo dozens of times, surely, and it is never less than breathtaking, never more so than in the hour that is split by sunrise, and never as much as this June morning in 2007.
I think it was the clouds moving silently and eerily among the somber hills and along the winding river, now hurrying right to left towards the dawn, and the sudden burst of light from a sunrise that splashed for a few minutes through a gap in the cloud bank on the horizon, that left me wondering whether I was in a dream.
Dear reader, if it was a dream, I'm glad that I also dreamed that I had a camera so that I could share my dream with you.