I went snowshoeing this past weekend.
It was rainy and foggy, and looked like we were in for a not-so-fun time.
It turned out all right, the powder wasn’t as fresh and fluffy but we had a nice hike up to Dam Mountain.
The fog and the dark clouds set a beautiful mystical mood, I felt like I was in an old haunting poem.
Or perhaps the kind of atmosphere that inspires poetry.
The trees looked bare with the snow melting; pine needles wet and glistening.
I really loved the solitary nature of the hike, even with people around it still feels as if you have the whole forest to yourself.