We'd been watching the weather all day. The afternoon thunderstorms had rolled through — as they do in the White Mountains every summer — and left the air scrubbed clean and the sky a deep, impossible blue.
By 7pm, the light was changing. The clouds that remained caught the last of the sun and began to glow. Pink first, then violet, then a deep rose gold that seemed to come from inside the clouds themselves.
The moon was already up, hanging low and full over the eastern ridge. The pond below the cabin reflected everything — the sky, the mountains, the moon — in a perfect, still mirror.
We sat on the deck and didn't move for an hour. The elk that had been grazing in the meadow all afternoon seemed to pause too, as if they knew something extraordinary was happening.
Alpenglow is one of those things that photographs can't quite capture. The colors are real, but the feeling — the warmth of it, the way it makes everything feel sacred — that's something you have to be there for.
Come to Greer. Watch the sky. Let it change you a little.
