This is the thought that stays with me when I remember the hundreds of faces turned toward the rising sun.

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When Todd came back, he performed the ritual that he does with all big game: he cut out her tongue and tossed it over his right shoulder, toward the rising sun.

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At around 6:30, the rising sun slowly reveals the rolling ridges all around us that seem to move like ocean waves toward the flat Utah deserts to the west.

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