Munson Valley Pines I
Even though the sun shines bright in the vivid blue sky the temperatures are chill, an icy cold that seeps through to the bone if you stand still to long. White powdery snow lies in every direction, deep and fluffy, making each step a trudging effort of sheer will. Even the pines seem dragged down by the winter weight, drooping with the icy dressing covering their limbs.
The mountain is quiet under the shrouding blanket, absorbing every sound the snow leaves a tranquil hush over the landscape, serene and isolating. Each direction we turn seems similar and if it weren't for our deep clear tracks it would be so easy to lose our way in the white winter world.