Winter

It's the end of another weekend here in New England. The sound of a road sign blowing down the street echos off the brick buildings surrounding my home. The pelting rain, some of which is now dripping through my ceiling, is depleting my hope for one more winter sport sustaining snow storm.

At least with my wide open social agenda I have been able to fit in more snowboarding in the last couple of weeks than I've gotten in since I had a seasons pass in college. Below is a short photo essay of my recent forays into the wildernesses of northern Maine and New Hampshire in pursuit of all things wintry and wonderful. A reminder of why I do love living where it actually snows in the winter. My only regret is that with all this free time I haven't yet made it back out west where I know the snow is deeper, lighter and not far from some good friends and family.

For starters this is a waterfall I passed on my way up Mount Washington this past year in the full verdant lusciousness of summer. Compared with the picture of the same waterfall below it is a reminder of seasons and change, an aspect of the natural world of which I am extremely fond.

Below we can see Lola, a fierce Alaskan hunting hound and an unidentified snowboarder, ascending the final ridge before Hojo's.

The view of Tuckerman Ravine and Hillmans highway.

The same view on a much more humid and warm day.

The bowl of Tuckerman Ravine.

The avalanche board and rescue shed covered in snow. Having never attempted the bowl on snowboards we left it for another day.

Renowned Alaskan hunting dog Lola leading the charge down Shelburne trail.

Another day, here at Sugarloaf, shows the formation of a lenticular cloud as stable moist air flows over the ridge adiabatically cooling.

The view west from the summit of Sugarloaf.

Mount Washington as viewed from the top of Sunday River on a blue bird day.

It just doesn't get any better than this...