I like everything about the mountains in winter – The rarefied air and cold temperatures; watching banks of moisture laden clouds rolling in and the wonderful light of a clearing storm; The pureness of alpine streams, tarns, lakes and glaciers; the distant vista of high mountain peaks and the silence of the high alpine.
I am particularly drawn to snow, whether it is falling from the sky, lying in a fresh blanket, pristine and untouched, lapping over my skis and boots and if its deep enough over my head, in the sastrugi that builds up on the surface during high winds, being blasted into my face in a blizzard, getting up through the night to dig my tent out, built up as rime on exposed rocks, vegetation and huts. It’s the pure nature and the whiteness of snow that leaves my soul cleansed.
There is something special about the trees that survive in these harsh but beautiful environments. They look other worldly covered in fresh light snow, encrusted with hoar frost or plastered with ice from the freeze/thaw cycle. This blog is dedicated to those amazing forms of life that cling precariously to the high mountain ramparts.
