The sun rose from behind a mountain and cast amber light over the central Idaho plains.
Horses wandered in a pasture looking for morning mouthfuls of dry grass. A hawk glided low along a field of barley ready for harvest.
Mourning doves cooed softly, their voices mixing with the sounds of dogs barking and wild turkeys gobbling that carried through the cool, still air. Sunflowers turned their faces into the rising stream of sunlight.
As a car rolled by and left a plume of dust hanging in the air I looked down at my phone to check the time. It was 7:22 a.m.
But in about four more hours, it would come again.