I just couldn't do it. I'd been telling everyone who asked that I was intending to leave this bright yellow blessing string I got at a temple in Bhutan under a cairn in Thompson Pass, but when Rowan and I went up there yesterday evening for a hike, I just couldn't bring myself to take it off and leave it behind. I've been wearing it nonstop for three months; apparently it's become a part of me. I suppose I'll have to steel myself to do something with it or I'll be wearing it forever - I think it will take that long to wear out on its own. Let's see, I suspect I'll have to take it off for my surgery next month - before then I'll find a place for it.

It was such a beautiful week (and it's supposed to rain this weekend) that it seemed appropriate to celebrate by taking a picnic supper up to the pass. Rowan and I hiked along our favorite trail (okay, it's the only one we've found so far), she gamboling like a mountain goat among the rocks, and me cursing my shoulder for slowing me down. Despite my impaired capabilities, I enjoyed finally getting up above treeline. I love the alpine tundra, partly because you can see forever. I appreciate that the landscape looks so stark on a macro scale, but when you look closely, the variety of life is immense. One of my favorite aspects is the smell. Simply breathing fills my lungs with the particular aroma of tundra: pungent earthiness, deep green, the scent of cranberries and blueberries that has more to do with the foliage than the fruit.

Rowan complained that I was taking too many photos - I think she thought I was going too slow. I don't think I'll let her know that it's really the 33 years I have on her. She's still kind enough to think I can do anything. Even if I was going slow, I did get some good pictures. I think I'll let them tell about the trip.
Alpine arnica
Alpine azalea and reindeer lichen - these pink flowers are only about 1/4" across
Cinquefoil
I love the colors and textures of these varieties of crustose lichens
I was so excited to see these Dryas (mountain avens) seed heads, even though they weren't as big and showy as those I drew in McCarthy.
A field of dwarf dogwood
This is one tenacious harebell.
More lovely lichens
My little mountain goat in action. (Rowan's looking over my shoulder as I write and just said, "Well, I am a kid.")
At this point Rowan said, "How do I get down?" "Very carefully." Fortunately, it was easier for her to finish going up than come down.