“Mountains, according to the angle of view, the season, the time of day, the beholder’s frame of mind, or any one thing, can effectively change their appearance. Thus, it is essential to recognize that we can never know more than one side, one small aspect of a mountain.” ~ Haruki Murakami #fbf #mountbakerwilderness #thehappybarber (at Artist Point, Washington) https://www.instagram.com/p/B5vOhd5gWeE/?igshid=1wb3y23gu2c7

#mountbaker #mountbakerskiarea #mountbakersnoqualmienationalforest #mountbakerwilderness #mountainview #mountainviews (at Abbotsford, British Columbia) https://www.instagram.com/p/Bsowb0LBjzM/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=zc7g1jgi8mqa

#mountbaker #mountbakerskiarea #mountbakersnoqualmienationalforest #mountbakerwilderness #mountainview #mountainviews (at South Surrey) https://www.instagram.com/p/Bsl01JyhKOL/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=1h7fzxjj4hiax

//explore

Jagged peaks stretch towards sun, gravity’s pull calling for boulders to tumble in paths of slide. Here, we are above the clouds, or suddenly encompassed by one’s opacity. And there are layers upon layers of landscape; billowing white spiraling through alpine, snowy rock, and the indigo of distance. The land has been carved by generations of glacial melt searching for paths to meet and shape valley. Morning catches in the fog that crawls across slope and crevice, rising and falling with moments of gold. When the mist unfolds upon us, it races by with dance, furling and unfurling its density, strands winding in all directions. The window panes are fogged, droplets hung outside with scatter. There is glass on all sides of us, where Baker, Shuksan, Tomyhoi, Larrabee, and many other ancient mountains stand. This place feels like cold fingers, steaming tea, and many memories I will never know.