Spin Drift on the Ridges

I laid back on the slopes, listening to the gusting winds overhead, feeling the cold touch that bent the dry grasses about me. I closed my eyes and heard the circling and tossing going on, while the clouds zig-zagged in furrowed waves. Then, I opened my eyes to the movements across the bay. There, the sun slowly glided into the fuzzy edges of a cloud, where the disk of the sun appeared, now unveiled like the face of God.

As my glance followed this silvery track of light, I noticed the wind on the ridges below the cloud. Here, the spin drift of wind and snow resulted in plumes of light streaming up along the various levels leading to a pass below the mountain's crest--each like a flame burning a visual trail upwards to the sky. The wind would circle in to tease the exposed tops, then would vanish into dormant silence, but soon would return again as puffs of air-born light whirling in the air.