The falling dews seemed to strain and purify the air, and I was soothed with an infinite stillness. I got the world, as it were, by the nape of the neck, and held it under in the tide of it's own events, till it was drowned, and then I let it go down stream like a dead dog. Vast hollow chambers of silence stretched away on every side, and my being expanded in proportion, and filled them. Then first could I appreciate sound, and find it musical. Thoreau
Top photo: Home sweet home! Above: Red pines along the Boulevard.
It was a grey day up top. The high was 41. The low was 35. It was 36 and hazy at observation. The mountain received 1.27" of rain yesterday. It was one of those day that I felt (perhaps accurately) like the only person for miles around.
ps: Happy Groundhog Day! I bet Phil didn't even realize there was a winter! On another note, I miss laughing at Bill Murray's awesomeness.
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