This place, the land is more ancient and pure; it's like a concentrated tonic for the soul. If you take too much it can infect you, and if you don't take enough you have missed it completely and your efforts were in vein.

As she stares into the cool prisms of blues and whites, and the clear parts which fracture the light, she notices something deeper. It is a light from within the ice. It's beautiful; so she stays.

We have three weeks left, before the season will end, and this will end, and everyone will go, and it will never be again, at least not with us, and the way we are together. So, we have these nights, and we hold them so tightly, so dearly in our hearts.

We have three weeks left; before the season will end, and this will end, and everyone will go, and it will never be again, at least not with us, and the way we are together. So, we have these nights, and we hold them so tightly, so dearly in our hearts.

Still, I must admit, that I suspect these coincidences, these bending branches of charity are more complicated and somehow related to this place, Denali. I didn't just pursue her. She called to me, and I answered the call, as natural and with such strong urgency as the migrating birds that flock here, seeking summer resting grounds and absolution.

When we are true to ourselves, and follow these impulses that sweat from our compressed and broken souls we may just find the beauty, and the oh-so amazing way life can sneak up and smash us in the face!

Tectonic power and glacial force push and pull the geology, spreading it to it's absolute limit, yet layered and rich with hues of darkness, immortality, and mysteries not meant for men.

Coppers and purples, and reds and golds, browns and blacks streaked across the earth violently, and sweeping up and over, a kaleidoscope of dirt and rock that challenges even the most jaded of hearts to not fall under her spell.