In the silence between peaks

The snow-covered trees fall away on the rapidly declining slope. From above, they look like an architectural drawing, the contrast of white snow against the dark boughs of hemlock, fir and cedar. It occurs to me only now that each tree, from directly overhead, resembles an irregular snowflake. It’s a beauty I always marvel at, every time across. The trips with snow on the trees are always best.

Soon enough we near mid-span and the world is opening up, high above Fitzimmons Creek. To the other side, the valley flows out to Whistler Village, the always expanding community of residents and visitors. To this side, the valley rises up into the Coast Mountain wilderness of Garibaldi Park, and the mountains ringing what the backcountry skiers call The Spearhead Traverse. When we reach the Whistler side, we’ll make our way to the Symphony Amphitheatre, at the edge of which, to the right, you’ll find one end of the traverse, which begins with the Musical Bumps: Flute, Piccolo and Oboe.

The height and span of the tram is breathtaking. But the view — even on a cold grey day — mesmerising. No one in our gondola is speaking. I sometimes wish I could make the tram stop, right here, so I could linger and just breathe in the beauty.

In response to this week’s WordPress Photo Challenge, On the Way.

It also works for this week’s One Word Photo Challenge: Cold.