A Morning in Bryce Canyon National Park

A desert wind as old as time is sighing across the backyard. Judging by the way Emily's nose is up and twisting to the vagaries, it has stories to tell. To Samwise, who is laying on his side on the red earth, bathing in the sun, the wind carries lullabies.

The three of us are happy here. I am enchanted with the coarse and colorful landscape and the infinite sky. Goodness knows, however, I would never, could never live here. I'd miss the mountain greenery of northern New England, and all three of us would surely wilt in the summer heat, no matter how dry. But February in southern Utah could very well turn into a "same time next year" love affair. It feels that way now. I am enchanted.

The thermometer started out shivering at 21 degrees this morning, but now it's stretching to touch 60. It's been like that every day of our first week here. To someone from New Hampshire, it's downright luxuriant.

While I miss the ravens of Moab, we are welcomed by the local deer. Two make the neighborhood …