By Louis Hart
I stand on the bank of the East Carson River watching the cold water flow by. The overcast sky 
and the snow on the ground combine with the dark water to present a colorless world of white, black, and assorted shades of gray.
Most would call it a dreary scene and for a moment I feel a wave of intense loneliness and melancholy. So much unhappiness in the world. Such bitterness and hate. So much misery. What a sad state of affairs.
I am suddenly jolted out of my reverie by an icy blast of wind blowing down the canyon. “Wake up…wake up,” it seems to say. “Look around you! Open your eyes!” I look closer at the scene around me. Even in its black and white mode I realize I am still in the presence of the endless beauty of Creation. It fills me with its happy sights and sounds. The chuckling river. The whistling of the wind as blows through the tall pine trees.
I feel a rush of energy lift me up. I also feel cold. The wind is getting colder and flurries of snow begin. I pick up a small rock from the edge of the river and lovingly touch it to my cheek. I gently replace it and make haste to return to the car. The storm is arriving early and I must leave here quickly for this road will soon be closed.
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