Three old men, I mean students sit in the gloom of the lodge sitting room. First ones up. Michael, Mac, Sam.
"What time did you get to sleep?" I asked.
"Not bad. Two in the morning East Coast time."
I laughed. These guys will get a fine slumber tonight!
The light outside is not to be believed. The canyon hills are khaki, tan, yellow, an overall gray that wakens with the overhead sky which itself shimmers with a living if invisible quality. In the distance the dark peaks of the Teton range already are draped in heavy early snow. Even in the bus ride in last night from airport to camp, the ebullient 8th graders could feel the difference in how the far West expresses time and space. 
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