Quite time is at 10 pm so I stepped outside and turned the generator off. The stars shone bright. Renita pointed to the moon and then pointed out Jupiter, above the moon and slightly west. Two owls hooted in the distance as if to signal it's time to go hunting rabbits. Later a flock of geese landed near us and started to have quite a conversation, honking on and on, not minding the parks quiet time regulation. A deer bedded down near us, seeking refuge, as coyotes howled nearby, calling to each other with their mournful yowls. This morning I walked Molly and we took a different direction, walking south along the trail. Nearing the campground's end she abruptly smelled the air, turned a 180 degree turn and pulled hard against the leash. We retraced our steps and she looked over her shoulder as if in fear of pursuing coyotes or a mountain lion. Some smell or sound that I couldn't sense. Walking through Arch campground, now closed, a flock of jake Merriam turkeys walked in front of us, sixteen in all. Their plumage wasn't yet full but full enough for the time of year. A flock of american white pelicans were fishing in the back of Cottonwood bay, undisturbed as the geese had already flown out to their feeding grounds. We finished our walk and I was reminded of how I had been taking so much for granted. Such beauty as the still lake surface mirrored by the cliffs across the bay. The multitude of wildlife we have seen. Last night's view of the summer Milky Way and stars and planets, and why some wonder why I always sign off, "clear skies". Clear skies.