whenever you're near, i hear a symphony.

The most spiritual men, as the strongest, find their happiness where others would find their destruction: in the labyrinth, in hardness against themselves and others, in experiments. Their joy is self-conquest: asceticism becomes in them nature, need and instinct. Difficult tasks are a privilege to them; to play with burdens that crush others, a recreation. Knowledge - a form of asceticism. They are the most venerable kind of man: that does not preclude their being the most cheerful and the kindliest. Nietzsche

Morning,

The high was 44. The low was 33. Not even freezing in January! I give up trying to understand this weather. It was 40 and raining at observation. The mountain received .72 inches of rain, most of it overnight. The trails will be flowing like rivers, so be prepared to get wet.

In spite of the numbers, it was a pleasant day on LeConte. The early morning held the promise to burn off the previous days clouds. I was treated to my own private showing of these mystical specters flying up from the valley and over Myrtle Point. I'd be surprised to hear that Tolkien didn't watch a similar showing and then write inspiredly of the Nazgul's impalpable grace. Strong storms hit us overnight and continue to rattle the windows of my cabin. It's amazing how vulnerable you can feel in such an idyllic place.

Top photo: I scrambled up some rocks to get a different perspective at Alum Cave. Above: One of the few times I wish I had a fancy Olympus, Nikon, etc. This bird (peregrine falcon?!!? red-tailed hawk would be my 2nd guess) is perched on a tree just above Alum Cave. Whatever it is, it looks justifiably proud and capable of taking off my scalp with some vicious talons should the mood strike.