The marsh is slowly filling up with water again and I delight in seeing the rivulets criss-crossing the length and width and depth of the barren landscape. It feels like Death Valley out here or like the middle of any desert I have ever traversed (felt like 92 degrees). I went out seeking life and found death, as I happened upon a lone doe who lie dead on the white sand. Of course I wondered how she died and childbirth (or fawn birth?) entered my mind but I did not see anything alive or dead of her offspring.
