First Snow on the Guardians

I painted this after a cold snap moved through the high country — one of those clear, blue-sky days that follows a storm, when the peaks show off without even tryin’.

These are the formations I call the Guardians. I don’t know their official names, but they stand watch over the valley like old souls. I’ve seen 'em in every season, but it’s winter that really brings out their shape — that red rock cut clean by snow and shadow.

Down below, the pines go quiet under the weight of the fresh snow, and if you look close, there's a little dome tucked into the forest. That’s not from memory — it’s from a dream I had once, where someone was living out there, warm and safe in the middle of all that wild.