Photos taken just after 5:30 am, Thursday, June 12, 2008
Had I not been awakened by the pigeons, I would have missed the sunrise: a pastel pink muted on the soft blue sky, the water still as glass, the pale mountains sitting on the almost obscured gentle horizon, and a peaceful quiet disturbed only by the flute calls of the pigeons, the odd bleat of a lamb, the quiet clatter of goat feet mounting their rocky paths, the bell of the leader tinkling. Somewhere in the distance a rooster crowed in celebration of the god of the morning.
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