Morning in the Mountains
It had been a miserable evening. The wind never stopped howling. The rain never stopped beating. The thunder never died. The cold penetrated to my bones. And the thin atmosphere at this high altitude left me bereft of sleep. And it was just the first night of my 7-day solo trek into the heart of the Sierra Nevada
By morning, it seems as though the skies above had forgotten the ferment of last night. Foreboding grey clouds were replaced with puffy whites taking on the golden orange from the rising sun. The winds had been swept away, leaving behind an alpine stillness. The thunder had been replaced with the sweet chirps of mountain birds.
I can never forget that serene sunrise where I had sat there by a tarn, reminiscing what I had been through, and the transformation of both the outside weather and rejuvenation of my inner spirits. This calm mountain morning and the glow of the sun were a kindle to my flustered mind. I was now ready for the next six days.
Kings Canyon National Park
CA USA