At the mouth of Tunnel Canyon White Dog and I share graham crackers and water. The air is fragrant with scents so delicious that we both tip our noses up and close our eyes.
Later, in the parking area, a beautiful yellow butterfly catches White Dog's attention and she tenses to stalk. At the same moment, a yellow splat suddenly blooms on the windshield of a red jeep blaring techno hip-hop.
White Dog returns to my side. "Wow," she sighs, plopping down in the tall grass, "Nature is harsh!"
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