The mountains called to each other, rumbling and growling with thunder.

August 20th, 2013, 9am

It was 23.3°C with scattered clouds. There was moderate breeze.

We heard there were moose at the second lake, but by the time we reached Lake Blanche, the sky was on fire. We weren’t prepared to go further.

I put my feet, one after the other, in ages-old glacier grinds, unable to picture this rocky landscape covered in ice. The humps and grooves were mesmerizing, filled with secrets.

I stood for a long time, lost in trying to understand this place. None of us could tear our eyes away. And then, in just a matter of minutes, we were hiking in darkness, each of us wrapped in a tiny pool of light, the mountain that was so preset and inexplicable before now invisible, forgotten.

We followed our feet back towards the little things we knew.

Cassie, Paul, David Wade and Gabrielle said thanks.

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Jess Hutton

I write. I don't like shoes. I do like cheese.

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