Frost Fringe

There was no wind at all, which is the only reason the cold was tolerable. November, thirty minutes before sunrise, a bright overcast morning, and the whole valley completely still.

My wife and I had come up to Jackson from Logan for a few days and were staying in a motel on the north edge of town. There were a couple of other cars in the lot at Schwabacher but I never saw another person the entire time we were out there. At one point something big moved in the brush near us — moose or deer, going by the sound of it — and neither of us ever saw it either.

The Snake was still running, with ice starting to build along the edges where the water slowed. Snow was gathering over the peaks and looked like it was about to do something. As far as I know it never came down to us in the valley; it may well have kept going higher up.

Nine frames stitched, because at 24mm there was no other way to hold both the range and the water at its feet.

Same November trip as Serpentine and Pioneer Spirit.