The trail disappeared into the old burn scar. Young aspen and oak, regrown since the 1996 Lama fire, shimmered in yellows, reds, and oranges. We pushed into the growth and scrambled up the ridge, weaving our way through the young forest toward the craggy, windswept knob known as Flag Mountain, which juts 11,946 feet into the blue New Mexico sky.
I was a bit distracted. A downy woodpecker caught my attention. Then a pygmy
