One of the moments that I found quite idyllic was when the waning crescent moon (full moon two nights ago) was setting over the fresh snow clad peaks under the thick blanket of clouds. Catching a glimpse of Mt. Whitney poking out of the veil of clouds and flicking a smile in her freshly snow-powdered face in the early morning light was what I had in mind when I climbed this tall rock rather precarious in the gusty winds. Instead, it felt like everything seemed suspended in time… The moon hung frozen in the sky looked like an eye that never blinked, and the clouds hovering over the peaks like a thin stratum of air stopped brushing them.
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