It was the perfect setting for an early morning walk. The sun perched, ready to rise behind the far distant lake and rocks. Shards of light illuminated the leftover clouds from a midnight storm. Blooms lingered on desert willows. On the pavement, I was passing through a section of exquisitely detailed high-end southwestern homes.

Twenty feet away from me a full-grown jackrabbit paused and posed, silhouetted in front of an iron arch complete with some sort of desert vine, ears upright and transparent in the sunrise like the hoodoos of Bryce Canyon during a 6:00 am entrance to Queens Garden. I looked and longed beyond the rabbit to the vanishing point far, far away in lake and rocks. And I had no camera. I have long ceased to carry it in my own neighborhood. What could possibly be different one day to the next?