Photo by Casey Horner on Unsplash
Evening was coming, and the sun had slipped down behind Wasson Peak and the ridges around it. All the bright glare of the Arizona sun was gone, and the desert and mountains had turned to soft pastel shades. A blue quail called out in the bush, and somewhere a burro yawned his lonely call into the cool air of twilight.
Louis L'Amour (in The Outlaws of Mesquite)
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