Sun glazes the ridge to the east of the Poqueira Valley from the bellied dark morning light meets the mountain. The arc of day begins. Dawn on these hillsides speaks the language of wing, grace wing, sun-struck and luminous. Angels speak. Light awakens the world of living things. Mountains rise to meet sky in all directions. Acequias pulse coursing water through these ancient irrigation channels, a mingling of water and stone. Breathing; Earth exhales. At the onset of summer the valley is alive with green. Spring rains and snow melt support creation. Abundance. Chestnut trees, walnut, fig, cherry and olive. The distant sound of goats’ bells rises from the valley below.