The air is cold, a strong breeze blows hair across my face. I try to grasp the view, both mentally and with my camera. I take in the beige brush and boulders that look like summer against the winter white snow peaks in the distance. I just stand there, almost paralyzed by the view. The way the light carves out each rock, the fog lingers in the mountains. It’s almost impossible to really wrap my head around the scale and scenery I get to witness. It feels surreal. Eventually I lift the camera and look through the viewfinder. Inside the little rectangle, with the familiar light meter and dark peripherie, the view suddenly seems easier to absorb.