Far to the west, low on the horizon (because of the high elevation here), all afternoon I could see the glow of sunlight over the valley. From there (as I pictured it) the mass of cloud which formed a luminous grey roof for the ridges and canyons of the mountains would be sparkling white. Under bright blue sky, the students returning from winter break would have been basking on the lawns of the university in the warm sunlight. Here, the shadowed streams flowed loud with runoff from the recent rains, the roiled water as dark as the clouds. I imagined it that water tumbling down the arroyos until, at last, it emerged onto the valley floor and kindled in the evening light that flooded green-grown banks and soft-leafed evergreens. I watched at sunset as the band of bright pearl changed to gold, there where birds undoubtedly sang. The forest birds remained silent.