Come for a walk with me along the North Platte river, please. It is early morning, with the sun just blushing the horizon. If we step quietly we can see the creatures at their earliest stirrings. Little sparrows, nuthatches and robins, as well as other birds twittering about, waking up the kids with a worm that woke too early; a couple of Canada geese stopping over for a visit with the Mallards who maintain a year round residence. This time they even bring their hatchlings, who, along with the ducklings are swimming quite well.

Then, too, along the soccer fields, with their luscious groomed and thick grass, we see the mule deer and antelope catching a few monring nibbles before heading across the river to the mountain or prairie, away from the bustle of the children and their parents beating about at a ball, later, in the midday heat, when the creatures know that anyone with any sense will be nesting down and having a nap in a cool shady spot.

As we walk, the squirrels begin to race about the treetops, leaping and making the boughs sway under their lighening-landing weight, then bounce up from their push-off in pursuit of one another and scolding us all the while.

We pause for a moment and listen to the rushing of the water, mesmerised by its constant, yet, ever-changing flow, breathing deeply of the fresh new day and it is good, this walk of ours. We are ready to face the day.