I imagine I am the first to wake up in our camp site the fire still holds a tender tindril of flame and is slowly spark to life, dusk is slowly losing its battle to dawns awakening light. a gentle soft mist covers the ground, dew sits on the leaves, a deer enters the glade, stops and looks at me. the smoke from the fire brushes my eyes as im still crouched down by the fire, standing up the deer scampers off a few yards then goes back to grazing, the ever brightening glow in the east is growing across the river as the ground mist runs to escape the warmth of its light, slowly it creeps, the awakening dawn, as my family slumbers unaware of all the majesty that is happening all within their reach, standing there as the mist gathers around my feet, the last stars fade slowly from sight, the darken sky becoming a redder and redder glow, a shimmering across the river, of a circluar shape, rising up over the horizon and over the river at the same time, like splitting a prism, morning has broken