The Haze settles in as the day slips away. Here in the high canyons the temp drops fast as the sun moves on. The Long Shadows regain their majesty. The Eagle goes to nest and the Night Hawk will do the next shift, the Owl will help out. The Bats are starting to awake. Their 45 mile journey to the lemon groves is their only source of food. Over night many things will happen. The warm air will become chilled to form dew in the morn, coating all that it finds, grass, leaves and the occasional spider web. The Big Horns and Deer will come down to drink the clear, fresh water, the Mountain lion knows this. Wild Jacks have called this place home since they wandered here, the Lion leaves them alone. The night sounds will fill the farthest recess's of this Canyon, telling stories of hunger, fear, success and failure. The Cry of the Hawk, the snarl of the lion, the angry growls of the badger, water splashes of the otters and the death squeal of the rabbit. Violent, turbulent, no, this canyon is Serenity in all you see, it is the order of things.