Just a line of red is on the horizon, under a little light blue, gradually changing to the darkness of full night. The moon is full; I can still see a planet and a couple of stars. Mia sniffs the air.
To the south I can see the beginning outline of Yankee Ridge where the last glaciers end. The sabre tooth tiger is hunting, hopefully hunting the herds of wooly mammoths that are beginning to graze, and not hunting me.
As the sky brightens I see smoke from the east along the banks of the Salt Fork. The Illini tribe is stirring. Campfires are waking up with the help of the women of the tribe. The buffalo have been wallowing at the spring and tracks are abundant. It will be a good day to hunt.
The edge of the sun peeks over the horizon and the first cars headed for work begin to drive by and Mia and I go back into the house. The sun rises and it is a new day.