After a solid week of rain, the clearing skies reveal the season’s first snowfalls on the surrounding peaks.
It’s easy to forget all that wet when what comes after looks like this:
I must have driven that highway more than a thousand times over the years, seldom stopping to take in the scenery. Took it for granted it would always be there. But it changes all the time with the light and season, and in what’s amounting to a pre-retirement trial run, these days I’m not in much of a hurry. So I did two things nobody else seems to do on that highway: drove the speed limit, and turned off to look around at every viewpoint.
A bit of a dangerous move nonetheless. Standing on the new dock at Porteau I had this stab of regret at having left all this beauty behind one day so long ago.
One photo I could not get because there was no place to pull over I’ll just have to describe. Locals will know what I’m talking about.
Driving south of Windy Point just after the new cut before you go over Deeks Creek you could see a long bank of cloud to the south hovering over the ridge above Horseshoe Bay.
Although the entire east side of the Sound was in still in dark shadow, that cloud bank was acting like a giant light disperser, diffusing the bright sunlight from behind the ridge to bathe that part beneath it on the eastern side in clear, white light. Trees and ridges popped into view out of the shadow, the shoreline a strange orange glow. Come to think of it, I don’t think my camera would have captured it.