Day #1
After making the 4-hour drive from school to the town of Bridgeport, I stopped at the ranger station to get my permit. When asked what trail-head I’d be using, I said “Buckeye.” The ranger, said, “Interesting choice.” When I asked if there was anyone else out in that area...she told me that she didn’t know of anyone.
Perfect...
After the 30 minute drive from the ranger station down Twin Lakes Road and then a long dirt road and a quick change of clothes, I hit the trail at 2:30. The trail-head was at 7298 feet :)
The first two hours were mostly flat through Buckeye Canyon. I crossed Buckeye Creek at 4 PM. Had to take my boots off and put my water shoes on for the 20-25 foot long 2 foot deep crossing. The lower canyon is open to cattle ranching and although it’s too late in the season for cows, their evidence is everywhere….and it kinda stinks.
The clouds were moving in and out all afternoon. The temperature was perfect for hiking...somewhere in the low 50s. At 5 o’clock it started raining a bit and I put on my poncho. My “poncho” is just the rain fly for my one man Six Moon Design net tent. It serves as my rain gear, pack cover and shelter. Of course, by the time I got my poncho situated, it stopped raining. By about 6 o’clock, the trail passed just under a waterfall and I found a very old horseshoe. I called the falls “Horseshoe Falls” as it wasn’t on any map.
Saw lots of birds today. Small birds, raptors, and hawks. Scared a couple deer out of the sage as well. I had the strangest feeling on the hike today that I’ve been into this canyon and very deep before. But I think the only time I’ve ever been here was with Isabela and we only walked in a couple miles. Funny feeling lasted most of the afternoon.
Found a nice campsite right on Buckeye Creek about 1100 feet higher than I started today. It was a little farther than I thought I was going to go today at 8.8 miles. Dinner was a curry rice that I put together at home with lots of yummy pieces and parts. It rained here and there a bit after I had dinner. I got in the tent and relaxed listening to the tiny raindrops on the tarp. Rain was not all that surprising at this elevation as on the way in there was a dusting of snow atop the canyon walls.
Day #2
I slept well last night and woke up numerous times to the sound of rain, but fell right back asleep. Stayed warm all night except for a few cold spots. Woke up to an icy and snowy world. It must have been high 20's this morning as the ground was frozen hard. My two water bottles were mostly frozen as well. All was covered in about ½” of snow. As I packed up, I made a breakfast of coffee and oatmeal and then it was off into an icy wonderland. Unlike my wet pant legs yesterday, hiking in after rain that I had just missed, I didn’t get wet (right away) this morning because all the water on the plants was frozen. As soon as the sun hit my world, the ice quickly turned to water droplets on trees and plants. That’s when I started getting wet. My pants from the knee down, and boots, were both pretty soaked. But, walking uphill generates a lot of heat and I quickly dried out as I climbed Kirkwood Pass at 9920 feet. On the climb, there was a faint trail and upon getting to the top I had amazing views of numerous peaks dusted with snow.
On the backside of the pass the faint trail continued. I dropped a few hundred feet before I decided to get off the trail. I was going to cut off about 4 miles by making a straight line towards Tower Lake. As the line started, I arrived at Kirkwood Creek. Fall colors were at their height at this stream at 9150 feet. I stopped to re-hydrate and have some snacks. Getting started again, the straight-line didn’t work out as well as I had hoped. I ended up climbing into the canyon just before the canyon where Tower Lake sat. But even after I had figured that out, I decided to go deeper yet. The canyon was surrounded by four peaks. On the far left was Hawksbeak Peak at 11,057 ft. Just to the left and right were, Ernbeck Peak at 11,120 ft., and Tower Peak at 11,228 ft. And on the far right, the peak I would have to skirt along the flanks of was The Watchtower at 10,883 ft. It was absolutely amazing and I wouldn’t have had this view any other way.
I dropped in elevation to get out of the canyon and low enough that I’d be able to skirt the cliffs of The Watchtower. Some of this section was slow going over undulating rock formations while others were pretty simple and quick over forested benches. All of this was an effort to get into the next canyon housing Tower Lake and an unnamed pass I planned to climb. My entrance into the back of Yosemite National Park.
As I dropped into the deep gorge with Tower Lake I heard voices. I dropped further into the canyon knowing that there was a trail on the backside that would get me up to Tower Lake. Maybe they saw me, but never did see the people from which the voices were coming. The trail up to Tower Lake was faint, much like the other trails I’d been on. It rose, seemingly straight up, to Tower Lake. The lake sat in a bowl with Tower Peak, the Watchtower and a peak to the right called Forsyth Peak at 11,091 ft. rising above and dominating the sky.
Upon getting to the lake I had some food and some water while I scoped out the best line up the pass. The pass was nothing but boulders. Boulders and more boulders all the way up to the yearlong snow-patch towards to top. I folded up my hiking poles and attached them to my pack to have my hands free for the hand over hand scramble. I also put gloves on my hands to keep my hands warm and safe on the ½ mile of granite.
And I began. I took it very slowly and made good time. Every step was planned to land on a rock I didn’t think would move and had at least a slightly flat area to step. When I got up towards the field of snow, I saw that there was a small gap on the right-hand side that I could get through without having to go through the snow. Indeed, the gap was big enough, that if I took my time, I could stay entirely off the snow. Great for now...ominous for the future. Once over that last section, I hit the top of the pass.
Looking over on the west side was amazing. The fall colors were breathtaking. I could immediately see Mary Lake just below me and Tilden Lake in the distance. My goal was Tilden, but I wasn’t sure if I was going to get there on this night. I decided I’d hike to Mary and see what time it was at that point to see if I would have enough time to get to Tilden. The hike down to Mary was beautiful. Meandering creeks, boulders, and colors. Before I knew it, I was at shore of Mary Lake. It was only 4:50 pm, so I figured I probably had enough time to descend to Tilden after a short snack. The hike to Tilden took me about another hour and a half. No trails in this country. Just walking where it’s easiest to walk. Following the flow of the land. The essence of the walking in the back-country.
I set up my tent at Tilden Lake, got some water and made some dinner, before hunkering down in my tent and doing some journal writing. Dinner tonight- top Ramen mixed with vegetables. Tasted so good. Clouds are billowing….should be an interesting night at elevation. Tomorrow all off trail. I have to hike along Tilden Lake a little further and then I’m making a left to go into valley to head to an unnamed lake. That might be my lunch stop. We’ll see after that as my goal of Kirkwood Lake is at a very high elevation. Gonna have to watch the weather to know if I should try to get that far. There will be one more trailless pass to get over after that to make it back to the trail and original pass I came over this morning.
Day #3
Woke up to the sound of rain which turned quickly to the softer sound of snow last night around 11 pm. Shined my headlight outside numerous times and watched the snow getting deeper and deeper. Decided during the night, based on snowfall, it would probably be best that instead of finishing the loop I had planned, to instead head back the same way. The problem was, if I continued on my planned route, I’d be going over a new pass the next day and wouldn’t know exactly how that one looked, especially if it was covered in snow. On the pass I’d just come over, I knew the exact workable line and even if it was covered with a new layer of snow, it wasn’t unknown. The other pass, completely unknown.
I woke up at about 5:30 am today and started packing up while inside my tent to stay dry. Although it wasn’t snowing at the moment, there was a heavy layer of snow on the fly (as I’d tapped it off a few times during the night) and getting out would mean getting wet. I packed everything inside my backpack before getting out and packing my wet tent. I was out of camp by seven.
The walk from Tilden back to Mary took quite a while as everything was at least 4 inches deep in snow and melting quickly in the sun peaking over the low points in the ridge. When I got to Mary, I was glad to see that it didn’t look like the pass had quite as much snow as where I had slept. At least the easy side of the pass. By the time I got to the pass, about twice as long as it had taken me to get down the day before, I was soaked. Walking through snow that most times was above my boots, as well as covering all the growth I walked through...I was very wet. My socks were completely soaked and I kind of sloshed as I walked. As long as I kept moving, I stayed warm, but the moment I stopped, a cold chill started in my wet feet and hands before moving to my legs and then core. I needed to keep moving.
As I crested the top of the pass, I could see if there was a new dusting of snow over everything. My spirits dropped. Now...I’d be navigating the same difficult boulder field, but this time be moving downhill (much harder than up) and would need to factor in wet surfaces of granite either covered in snow, ice, or both. I’d lost my bandanna here yesterday, and last night when I decided to come back this way I realized I’d be able to grab my lost article. It was a favorite. One look at the descent and I knew I’d lost my prized bandanna forever.
The descent was excruciatingly slow. What took me about an hour and a half to get up the day before, now took me about 3+ hours to get down. By the time I got to Tower Lake I was pretty exhausted both physically and mentally. I had lunch, as it was 12 o’clock, and decided to reassess the day. The afternoon clouds were already starting to billow after a mostly sunny morning.
I wanted to make sure that I got down to a lower elevation before it started to rain and or snow. It was all downhill to Upper Piute Creek. I’d made the decision not to use the shortcut I’d used the day before from trail to trail in order to cut off the 4 miles. I just didn’t trust the weather enough to be off trail. I’d stay on the Tower Lake trail and descend much further, maybe cutting over to the other pack trail in Upper Piute Meadow. This would add on somewhere between 4-6 miles, but keep me mostly on trails during what looked to be a brewing storm. My goal was to get back over Kirkwood Pass and to camp somewhere around where I camped on night one. That would leave me about 9 relatively easy miles to the trail-head the next day.
I made very good time, stopping only to have a snack here and there. Since it was all downhill, and I was moving very fast, my boots “dried out.” That means they stopped being slushy and were now just wet. I was indeed able to cut across Upper Piute Meadow and keep the added mileage to about 5. I had to throw a downed log over the water and use it to hop from one side to the other in order to not have to walk through the water.
Once I hit the pack trail, it was a gradual uphill all the way back to Kirkwood Pass. This is where the first hail began. I say first, because for the next 5 hours, I was hit by a series of hail, snow, wind, thunder and lightning. Cell after cell would move over and through me. Sometimes the hail would be so intense I’d have to wait under trees that would take the brunt of the assault. Other times, the snow was so heavy, that just finding the trail in front of me became difficult. Still other times the sun would poke out for a few short minutes and melt a bit of the icy world. The poncho really did the job throughout it all. It kept me dry and was very breathable. In regular rain gear, I’d have been soaked from sweat from the exertion of the long climb.
Not long after the thunder and lightning started, I still had an estimated 30 minutes to the pass. I wasn’t really worried about lightning strikes on the pass, as the cells were moving quickly and also because of the towering peaks on either side of the pass. Just as I thought, by the time I got to the pass, the thunder and lightning had moved on. But the snow had not. It was coming down extremely hard now. I stopped at the top only for a quick drink and snack before dropping down the backside.
I had thought the wind would’ve let up a bit on the backside of the pass, but if anything, it seemed to increase. Now it was truly all downhill. The wind was howling and the snow was coming down hard, with a break for hail every now and then. From here, there were ten miles left to the car and I started thinking about pushing all the way through.
By the time I ended up at my first camp spot it was snowing hard again. Not wanting to set up in the snow, I decided to power on and continue and try to get to the car by nightfall. I knew that camping anywhere between there and the car, meant a night next to cow pies and salt-licks. Neither high on my list unless extremely necessary.
About an hour later I stopped again, at my personally named “Horseshoe Falls.” The wind was howling and I hunkered between a few sparse Junipers. One last snack to get into myself for the final 8 mile push and to get my headlight ready for an evening walk. I’d be ready for the dark. My hope is that at least the last part of the hike would be dry. Night would be even colder in the constant wetness.
By the time the sun went down about 6:45 pm, it got dark quickly with all the cloud cover. My headlight came in very handy for the last hour or so in the pitch black evening. Only twice did I have to stop in my tracks to really look hard at where the trail disappeared to into the blackness.
My hope was no precipitation for the last couple hours. Rain was more likely in this elevation. I got very lucky as it didn’t rain or snow until I got back to the car for those last hours...even as I had to take off my boots for the Buckeye Creek crossing. As always, but even more so tonight, the last 3-4 miles felt like they took forever. With a cloud covered pitch black night, I knew the sky could open up at any time. But it didn’t. And at 7:45 pm I got to my car. I got all my things unpacked, got my car situated for a parking lot sleep and as I lay down the heavens opened up and it started pouring. I got very lucky. It was 25 mile day.
After a about 50 mile out and back, I was able to witness so much of what mother nature has to share. Sunny skies and ferocious snow. Jagged peaks and grassy meadows. Light winds and pounding hail. Silence and booming thunder. The smallest bugs on the ground and massive raptors above. Warmth and cold. And finally, the dark greens of pines and the yellows and oranges of fall foliage. Thank you once again Range of Light.
After making the 4-hour drive from school to the town of Bridgeport, I stopped at the ranger station to get my permit. When asked what trail-head I’d be using, I said “Buckeye.” The ranger, said, “Interesting choice.” When I asked if there was anyone else out in that area...she told me that she didn’t know of anyone.
Perfect...
After the 30 minute drive from the ranger station down Twin Lakes Road and then a long dirt road and a quick change of clothes, I hit the trail at 2:30. The trail-head was at 7298 feet :)
The first two hours were mostly flat through Buckeye Canyon. I crossed Buckeye Creek at 4 PM. Had to take my boots off and put my water shoes on for the 20-25 foot long 2 foot deep crossing. The lower canyon is open to cattle ranching and although it’s too late in the season for cows, their evidence is everywhere….and it kinda stinks.
The clouds were moving in and out all afternoon. The temperature was perfect for hiking...somewhere in the low 50s. At 5 o’clock it started raining a bit and I put on my poncho. My “poncho” is just the rain fly for my one man Six Moon Design net tent. It serves as my rain gear, pack cover and shelter. Of course, by the time I got my poncho situated, it stopped raining. By about 6 o’clock, the trail passed just under a waterfall and I found a very old horseshoe. I called the falls “Horseshoe Falls” as it wasn’t on any map.
Saw lots of birds today. Small birds, raptors, and hawks. Scared a couple deer out of the sage as well. I had the strangest feeling on the hike today that I’ve been into this canyon and very deep before. But I think the only time I’ve ever been here was with Isabela and we only walked in a couple miles. Funny feeling lasted most of the afternoon.
Found a nice campsite right on Buckeye Creek about 1100 feet higher than I started today. It was a little farther than I thought I was going to go today at 8.8 miles. Dinner was a curry rice that I put together at home with lots of yummy pieces and parts. It rained here and there a bit after I had dinner. I got in the tent and relaxed listening to the tiny raindrops on the tarp. Rain was not all that surprising at this elevation as on the way in there was a dusting of snow atop the canyon walls.
Day #2
I slept well last night and woke up numerous times to the sound of rain, but fell right back asleep. Stayed warm all night except for a few cold spots. Woke up to an icy and snowy world. It must have been high 20's this morning as the ground was frozen hard. My two water bottles were mostly frozen as well. All was covered in about ½” of snow. As I packed up, I made a breakfast of coffee and oatmeal and then it was off into an icy wonderland. Unlike my wet pant legs yesterday, hiking in after rain that I had just missed, I didn’t get wet (right away) this morning because all the water on the plants was frozen. As soon as the sun hit my world, the ice quickly turned to water droplets on trees and plants. That’s when I started getting wet. My pants from the knee down, and boots, were both pretty soaked. But, walking uphill generates a lot of heat and I quickly dried out as I climbed Kirkwood Pass at 9920 feet. On the climb, there was a faint trail and upon getting to the top I had amazing views of numerous peaks dusted with snow.
On the backside of the pass the faint trail continued. I dropped a few hundred feet before I decided to get off the trail. I was going to cut off about 4 miles by making a straight line towards Tower Lake. As the line started, I arrived at Kirkwood Creek. Fall colors were at their height at this stream at 9150 feet. I stopped to re-hydrate and have some snacks. Getting started again, the straight-line didn’t work out as well as I had hoped. I ended up climbing into the canyon just before the canyon where Tower Lake sat. But even after I had figured that out, I decided to go deeper yet. The canyon was surrounded by four peaks. On the far left was Hawksbeak Peak at 11,057 ft. Just to the left and right were, Ernbeck Peak at 11,120 ft., and Tower Peak at 11,228 ft. And on the far right, the peak I would have to skirt along the flanks of was The Watchtower at 10,883 ft. It was absolutely amazing and I wouldn’t have had this view any other way.
I dropped in elevation to get out of the canyon and low enough that I’d be able to skirt the cliffs of The Watchtower. Some of this section was slow going over undulating rock formations while others were pretty simple and quick over forested benches. All of this was an effort to get into the next canyon housing Tower Lake and an unnamed pass I planned to climb. My entrance into the back of Yosemite National Park.
As I dropped into the deep gorge with Tower Lake I heard voices. I dropped further into the canyon knowing that there was a trail on the backside that would get me up to Tower Lake. Maybe they saw me, but never did see the people from which the voices were coming. The trail up to Tower Lake was faint, much like the other trails I’d been on. It rose, seemingly straight up, to Tower Lake. The lake sat in a bowl with Tower Peak, the Watchtower and a peak to the right called Forsyth Peak at 11,091 ft. rising above and dominating the sky.
Upon getting to the lake I had some food and some water while I scoped out the best line up the pass. The pass was nothing but boulders. Boulders and more boulders all the way up to the yearlong snow-patch towards to top. I folded up my hiking poles and attached them to my pack to have my hands free for the hand over hand scramble. I also put gloves on my hands to keep my hands warm and safe on the ½ mile of granite.
And I began. I took it very slowly and made good time. Every step was planned to land on a rock I didn’t think would move and had at least a slightly flat area to step. When I got up towards the field of snow, I saw that there was a small gap on the right-hand side that I could get through without having to go through the snow. Indeed, the gap was big enough, that if I took my time, I could stay entirely off the snow. Great for now...ominous for the future. Once over that last section, I hit the top of the pass.
Looking over on the west side was amazing. The fall colors were breathtaking. I could immediately see Mary Lake just below me and Tilden Lake in the distance. My goal was Tilden, but I wasn’t sure if I was going to get there on this night. I decided I’d hike to Mary and see what time it was at that point to see if I would have enough time to get to Tilden. The hike down to Mary was beautiful. Meandering creeks, boulders, and colors. Before I knew it, I was at shore of Mary Lake. It was only 4:50 pm, so I figured I probably had enough time to descend to Tilden after a short snack. The hike to Tilden took me about another hour and a half. No trails in this country. Just walking where it’s easiest to walk. Following the flow of the land. The essence of the walking in the back-country.
I set up my tent at Tilden Lake, got some water and made some dinner, before hunkering down in my tent and doing some journal writing. Dinner tonight- top Ramen mixed with vegetables. Tasted so good. Clouds are billowing….should be an interesting night at elevation. Tomorrow all off trail. I have to hike along Tilden Lake a little further and then I’m making a left to go into valley to head to an unnamed lake. That might be my lunch stop. We’ll see after that as my goal of Kirkwood Lake is at a very high elevation. Gonna have to watch the weather to know if I should try to get that far. There will be one more trailless pass to get over after that to make it back to the trail and original pass I came over this morning.
Day #3
Woke up to the sound of rain which turned quickly to the softer sound of snow last night around 11 pm. Shined my headlight outside numerous times and watched the snow getting deeper and deeper. Decided during the night, based on snowfall, it would probably be best that instead of finishing the loop I had planned, to instead head back the same way. The problem was, if I continued on my planned route, I’d be going over a new pass the next day and wouldn’t know exactly how that one looked, especially if it was covered in snow. On the pass I’d just come over, I knew the exact workable line and even if it was covered with a new layer of snow, it wasn’t unknown. The other pass, completely unknown.
I woke up at about 5:30 am today and started packing up while inside my tent to stay dry. Although it wasn’t snowing at the moment, there was a heavy layer of snow on the fly (as I’d tapped it off a few times during the night) and getting out would mean getting wet. I packed everything inside my backpack before getting out and packing my wet tent. I was out of camp by seven.
The walk from Tilden back to Mary took quite a while as everything was at least 4 inches deep in snow and melting quickly in the sun peaking over the low points in the ridge. When I got to Mary, I was glad to see that it didn’t look like the pass had quite as much snow as where I had slept. At least the easy side of the pass. By the time I got to the pass, about twice as long as it had taken me to get down the day before, I was soaked. Walking through snow that most times was above my boots, as well as covering all the growth I walked through...I was very wet. My socks were completely soaked and I kind of sloshed as I walked. As long as I kept moving, I stayed warm, but the moment I stopped, a cold chill started in my wet feet and hands before moving to my legs and then core. I needed to keep moving.
As I crested the top of the pass, I could see if there was a new dusting of snow over everything. My spirits dropped. Now...I’d be navigating the same difficult boulder field, but this time be moving downhill (much harder than up) and would need to factor in wet surfaces of granite either covered in snow, ice, or both. I’d lost my bandanna here yesterday, and last night when I decided to come back this way I realized I’d be able to grab my lost article. It was a favorite. One look at the descent and I knew I’d lost my prized bandanna forever.
The descent was excruciatingly slow. What took me about an hour and a half to get up the day before, now took me about 3+ hours to get down. By the time I got to Tower Lake I was pretty exhausted both physically and mentally. I had lunch, as it was 12 o’clock, and decided to reassess the day. The afternoon clouds were already starting to billow after a mostly sunny morning.
I wanted to make sure that I got down to a lower elevation before it started to rain and or snow. It was all downhill to Upper Piute Creek. I’d made the decision not to use the shortcut I’d used the day before from trail to trail in order to cut off the 4 miles. I just didn’t trust the weather enough to be off trail. I’d stay on the Tower Lake trail and descend much further, maybe cutting over to the other pack trail in Upper Piute Meadow. This would add on somewhere between 4-6 miles, but keep me mostly on trails during what looked to be a brewing storm. My goal was to get back over Kirkwood Pass and to camp somewhere around where I camped on night one. That would leave me about 9 relatively easy miles to the trail-head the next day.
I made very good time, stopping only to have a snack here and there. Since it was all downhill, and I was moving very fast, my boots “dried out.” That means they stopped being slushy and were now just wet. I was indeed able to cut across Upper Piute Meadow and keep the added mileage to about 5. I had to throw a downed log over the water and use it to hop from one side to the other in order to not have to walk through the water.
Once I hit the pack trail, it was a gradual uphill all the way back to Kirkwood Pass. This is where the first hail began. I say first, because for the next 5 hours, I was hit by a series of hail, snow, wind, thunder and lightning. Cell after cell would move over and through me. Sometimes the hail would be so intense I’d have to wait under trees that would take the brunt of the assault. Other times, the snow was so heavy, that just finding the trail in front of me became difficult. Still other times the sun would poke out for a few short minutes and melt a bit of the icy world. The poncho really did the job throughout it all. It kept me dry and was very breathable. In regular rain gear, I’d have been soaked from sweat from the exertion of the long climb.
Not long after the thunder and lightning started, I still had an estimated 30 minutes to the pass. I wasn’t really worried about lightning strikes on the pass, as the cells were moving quickly and also because of the towering peaks on either side of the pass. Just as I thought, by the time I got to the pass, the thunder and lightning had moved on. But the snow had not. It was coming down extremely hard now. I stopped at the top only for a quick drink and snack before dropping down the backside.
I had thought the wind would’ve let up a bit on the backside of the pass, but if anything, it seemed to increase. Now it was truly all downhill. The wind was howling and the snow was coming down hard, with a break for hail every now and then. From here, there were ten miles left to the car and I started thinking about pushing all the way through.
By the time I ended up at my first camp spot it was snowing hard again. Not wanting to set up in the snow, I decided to power on and continue and try to get to the car by nightfall. I knew that camping anywhere between there and the car, meant a night next to cow pies and salt-licks. Neither high on my list unless extremely necessary.
About an hour later I stopped again, at my personally named “Horseshoe Falls.” The wind was howling and I hunkered between a few sparse Junipers. One last snack to get into myself for the final 8 mile push and to get my headlight ready for an evening walk. I’d be ready for the dark. My hope is that at least the last part of the hike would be dry. Night would be even colder in the constant wetness.
By the time the sun went down about 6:45 pm, it got dark quickly with all the cloud cover. My headlight came in very handy for the last hour or so in the pitch black evening. Only twice did I have to stop in my tracks to really look hard at where the trail disappeared to into the blackness.
My hope was no precipitation for the last couple hours. Rain was more likely in this elevation. I got very lucky as it didn’t rain or snow until I got back to the car for those last hours...even as I had to take off my boots for the Buckeye Creek crossing. As always, but even more so tonight, the last 3-4 miles felt like they took forever. With a cloud covered pitch black night, I knew the sky could open up at any time. But it didn’t. And at 7:45 pm I got to my car. I got all my things unpacked, got my car situated for a parking lot sleep and as I lay down the heavens opened up and it started pouring. I got very lucky. It was 25 mile day.
After a about 50 mile out and back, I was able to witness so much of what mother nature has to share. Sunny skies and ferocious snow. Jagged peaks and grassy meadows. Light winds and pounding hail. Silence and booming thunder. The smallest bugs on the ground and massive raptors above. Warmth and cold. And finally, the dark greens of pines and the yellows and oranges of fall foliage. Thank you once again Range of Light.
