Words can't describe. Either can this photo, but it gives you a pretty good idea of what Yosemite Valley looked like the morning we woke up to the first snow of the winter. Granite peaks emerging out of the shifting clouds, covered in veins of white. The quiet of the valley further muted by the soft layer of snow. A welcome fireside game of chess at Ahwahnee. A herd of deer playing, uninterested in the people walking five feet away (and finally, the 12 point buck I had a stare-down with alone on the trail).
Like those granite peaks, I was stuck in the clouds most of the weekend, in a fog of introspection. It's difficult not to get lost in self-reflection in an environment like that. I re-emerged from the valley floor on Sunday with some new ideas and an appreciation for the snowy winters I have come to miss.
