This tree (I’m not even going to attempt to identify what species it is) didn’t make a wise choise on where to make it’s home. It sprouted in the middle of a rock, right on the ridgetop where it has probably had to endure years of lighting, gail force winds, fires, and winters buried in snow. Greg and I went back to photograph this tree at sunrise, only I couldn’t find it in the dark. We did see a black bear, and the smallest deer that I’ve ever seen though while we were looking. After reaching the end of the road we double backed and I eventually found the right spot. All of the snow had melted, and there were no traces of Lori’s snow person left. Which reminds me, I still need to post that picture.