The hills burn in color, autumn becoming a dying season. Reds have mutated into burgundy and purple. What were once glowing, golden yellow leaves, whither into a shade of mustard. Perhaps a dijon, with brown speckles spattered about.
The Bob Marshall Wilderness was remote and fulfilling. A six day stretch in the woods is enough time for a hiker to get far away from society and removed from the noise. Seeing one or two people a day allows the mind to rest and wander. ...
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