Slow Tides
What I enjoy most about the mountains is the fact that for every grand mile-wide panorama, you can find an equally evocative close-up. It's a grand challenge to stand amid soaring peaks and shadowed valleys that stretch for miles around you and be able to shift your perception to dicovery such minute and eloquent beauty.

During a hike up to Twin Sisters peak with my father, we found a stand of wind-blasted trees. The trunks were twisted like cork-screws, the result of decades of wind blowing the branches and pulling the tree with patient persistence. This particular specimen was a fallen timber whose bark had silvered and revealed a golden weave beneath its skin. I indulged in only a hint of color balancing on this image... the shot itself spoke the tale all alone.