When the snow is heavy and fresh and clings to the trees, the mountains take on a different appearance from a distance.
On a trip back from Gunnison last month shopping for our weekly groceries the mountains appeared white and gray.
Mt Crested Butte appeared eerily from the highway.
Back at home the job again became clearing the driveway.
And the county plows worked on the roads.
Once again our trees became burried in snow.
And our freshly shoveled deck disappeared under fresh snow.
But the mountain views, above the fog, were beautiful.
On the way to the gym early the next morning the frozen rivers reflected the mountains behind.
The icicles hanging from the gym roof reflected the rising sun.
While in town the bicycles were abandon by the coffee shop.
But as we passed Crested Butte Mountain, it bode well for a wonderful day of skiing.