The edge of illustion

A couple weeks ago I went camping in a place that was as breath taking as a fictitious fantasy painting. It was on a small plateau of the top of a snowy mountain. After four and a half hours of hiking, we reached the summit. We were engulfed in an silence absent of any sounds of the living. So silent that we could hear whispers in the wind. The ground was covered with a thick layer of moss so that is felt like the finest carpet as it cussioned our step. Pools of crystal clear lake were scattered here and there, as it was almost sunset, these pool reflected brilliant shades of red, pink, orange and gold. Weatherworn ever green trees were here and there, as straight as needles pointing towards the sky. Patches of white snow decorated to ground. ... snowy peaks rose in the distance in unevent layers. As we walked further, the plateau gave away to a patch of stone, then making a sudden drop, revealed a deep canyon with a river winding like a snake at the bottom. The emornity of nature make you feel like and ant and the majestic view made you unconsciously whisper in conversation. It it there amoung whisps of mist, on the thick moss, as the edge of the canyon, we set up camp and a fire, overlooking the endless mountains.

When night time came, the sky was so bright with stars and misty streaks of the milky way and the moon that one had to squint when looking up. Never had I seen such brilliantly lit sky.

Here are some pictures that we took the next day, unfortunatly the colours and the limited frames of the photos don't do it justice. You have to experience it yourself. The place is called crest mountain.