Despite growing up in Colorado, I’ve never felt a particularly strong affinity for snow. Maybe it’s because I’m not a skier, or perhaps because I’ve always lived in the semi-arid Front Range, where snow mercifully melts within days of falling.

That said, I have an immense appreciation for snow’s role in the delicate and increasingly destabilized mountain west ecology. Because we see less and less of it each year, I find myself ever more compelled to overcome an instinctive aversion to its association with sub-40°F conditions, and to take in the subtle spectacle that is snow.


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