One of the remarkable things about being the first person out on the trail after a snow-fall is that the first visage with the unblemished snow will not exist again until it snows significantly enough to cover all the tracks…and that might be months or a year away. So it was with a bit of reluctance, then, that I continued along the trail, being the one to mark-up the perfect snow-fall…the one to taint the treasure that only existed for a few hours. Here’s some mind-boggling beauty for you…
The photos were all taken along the Pipeline Trail in Mill Creek Canyon, Salt Lake City, USA.
Treeline in Mill Creek Canyon during the sun’s waking…beautiful magic of light and clouds and the distance of a watching lens.
Black mountains and dark, concealed behind clouds and forests grown, strange and magical things hidden within, without and within those brazen massifs, those hulking, sleeping monsters of stone and sand and water and trees. They sit on a fault-line, an imaginary or created timeline, a marking of their past and future movements, those postulated projections of personal growth and peripheral destruction, they sit there and we wait, but not them. They don’t feel their strainings, the forces that are pushing them up and away from their sisters or brothers on the other side of the valley plain. They are just there, full of themselves and heedless of what we think or imagine of them.