Before dawn on Christmas morning, Steve and I stole out of my parents’ house and drove over to the cliffs at Hach-Otis to catch the sunrise.
It was cold and snowless, and silent except for the hum of traffic even this early on Christmas.
As it got lighter, we heard the chips of chickadees and titmice, and eventually the jungle call of a pileated woodpecker as it flew over the valley. Canada geese flew below us above the river, and slowly the sun rose, reflecting on the river below.
