10 May 2020, 5:10 a.m.  I get out of bed and look out my window.  Hunt Mountain is encased in a white fog bank with trees and portions of the mountain showing through.  It's beautiful.  It's photo-worthy.  I take my camera and go outside.  It's 40-degrees and very damp.  It rained hard yesterday afternoon.  I empty .71 inch of rain from the rain gauge.  Perhaps 12 head of elk are grazing in the grass in the corner of the potato field where the pivot doesn't reach.  The potatoes haven't come up yet.  The dark, damp soil makes a nice contrast with the luxurious spring green of the grass, the light green of the newly-leafed-out aspens, the dark green of the evergreen trees, and the strikingly white fog.

Above the potato field is another bunch of elk grazing Adam's wheat.  Three whitetail deer are trotting across the plowed ground with their flags waving.  Robins and worms are out in abundance.  The worms are suffocating in the damp soil, and the robins are gorging on the worms.  And here comes the sun!  The sky is very overcast, but there is a break in the clouds over the mountains in the east where the sun is rising.  It illuminates the whole scene in a brilliant light for several brief minutes.  This may be the sun's only opportunity to shine today, so it's making the most of it.

Me, too.  Everything is spectacular.  I drink it in.  My photos won't do these scenes justice.  A picture won't be worth these thousand words, so I am compelled to write it.

The lilacs are in full bloom.  The whole valley is spread out below me in a patchwork of plowed fields, green fields, and spotlighted fields where the sun shines through the clouds.

My goose family on the pond is enjoying the new day, but they can't appreciate things like I can.  I should get Marjorie up to appreciate these things with me, but she's appreciating her warm bed.  I could call Adam, but he'll be unappreciative of the elk in his field.  He'll call the Department of Fish and Wildlife to have them hazed up the mountain where they ought to be.

I should be working on my book, but everywhere I look things are gorgeous.  I keep taking pictures, but it won't do any good.  I'm compelled to record everything on paper and in my mind instead.

I feel sorry for everyone else in the world.