Once upon a time I lived in the Sierras not far from Lake Tahoe. Snow was a common occurrence, unlike my current location where it’s considered an event when we get a little sprinkle of the white stuff. The other night we had enough of a hail storm to turn the ground white, but it was gone by morning.

This is just a reminder of what it used to be like to wander that cold, still silence.

Taken somewhere near Squaw Valley, California, circa 1977…


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