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.

My favorite animal in the park is the grizzly, icnonic, graceful, and with eyes that seem to know, and what they know is sad.