Gratitude

In the deep gold-glow of the setting sun I saw the coyote run by a Saguaro dropping the scant remains of a mouse. An Elf Owl, nesting safely within the cactus, espied all, as the coyote paused, then trotted away, smiling. The stolid little raptor watched as the desert vagrant blended beyond recognition into the rocky solitude, then head turning, looked down, then looked up, directly into my wide-with-wonder eyes. The owl winked at me, swooped downward and took the carcass, in complete silence. In that solemn moment, assuredly, I understood the purity of gratitude.