I had never heard of this mountain, so I looked it up: it’s in a state park in the upper half of New Hampshire.
This is pretty; the newly fallen snow, the bent branches that suggested more, the rows of birch melting into the distance. Like a painted Ansel Adams shot.
I had never heard of this mountain, so I looked it up: it’s in a state park in the upper half of New Hampshire.
This is pretty; the newly fallen snow, the bent branches that suggested more, the rows of birch melting into the distance. Like a painted Ansel Adams shot.