Exploring Big Bend National Park for the first time many decades ago, we rose early to begin our upward hike from the Chisos Basin in frosty December darkness. We were young and fit, strong, experienced hikers and we made good time. Patches of the trail were icy, other stretches, we hiked with sunlight warming us, as if the high country couldn't decide what time of day it was, much less, the season. When we reached the South Rim, we found much of the expansive view below us obscured by fog, while eerie light from the low winter sun shone through dust-laden sky above us and the thin ground fog floating through the distant mountains. A clear day would've shown us more of the landscape, but I wouldn't trade that for the silent mystery we encountered as sun warmed the rock that marked the final boundary between the heights where we stood and the fog-woven depths below.