MARK SCHUMANN

At around 10 last night, cold air began blowing out of the heating system in the camper that has become my temporary home in Taos. Out of propane, I turned off the furnace and wrapped myself in a few blankets. Knowing the temperature would drop to about 25 degrees just before sunrise, I went to bed imagining I was sleeping at Camp Four on a climb up Mount Everest.

When I woke up, I decided that, since it wasn’t any colder outside than it was in the camper, I might as well go photograph the early morning sun lighting up the cotton woods, their golden leaves hanging on for dear life. In the distance, beyond a stand of cotton wood trees,  I could see this season’s first dusting of snow on Taos Mountain. Winter!