This morning, yesterday's snowfall left a thin, silky white blanket on the San Pedro Valley. A brief reminder of the unusual winter storm. The snow is gone from now; its feeble hold was no match as the high desert temperature climbed back towards normal. But, as the microscopic droplets left, they paused briefly in the mountains, coalescing into wispy clouds that bid farewell to their brethrens stronghold above 5,000 feet, and then wafted away forever.

In the Valley this morning a century old cottonwood sparkled in a rarely worn white blazer. It has been decades, if ever, that it had worn this coat, but it fit like it was tailor made. Behind the old tree, snow-covered Miller and Carr mountains, ancient in their reign, shone radiantly in the midmorning suns reflection while the resilient San Pedro river trickled southward, not allowing the cold to freeze its tepid flow.

I stood humbly as I took in this landscape. By human standards I am old, but here, next to God's creation, I understood that I am but an infant. Each day He provides me with a new opportunity to reflect on His greatness. Each day I pray for the privilege to share it with the world. I am but a scribe to the glory of His Grace and redemption.
Shoot Date: December 30, 2018
Canon EOS 5D Mark IV
Aperture priority ¹⁄₁₆₀ sec at f/16 ‒ 2 EV
Lens: TAMRON SP 150-600mm F/5-6.3 Di VC USD A011 @ 150 mm
ISO: 100