“There it was again, the prickling sense of standing on a precipice.” ~Lauren Myracle

“Along with 

rising 

and falling 

water, 

winter 

is the province 

of wind. 

When the sea-breath 

and mountain-roar

 bend the hemlocks 

of these
 hills, 

the birds 

hang on 

as best they 

can.” 

― Robert Michael Pyle,

Winter in the White Mountains