In central Morocco, about an hour's drive from Marrakech, lie the High Atlas, a chain of mountains reaching just over 14,000 feet. When Betsy was getting sunburned at the ocean, I was getting frostbitten (almost) in the mountains. My hike started with a climb to a refuge, and then an early morning rise to get to the peak of Toubkal. Once on the ridge, fierce winds changed my plans a bit, freezing my nose and fingers, and sending me down to the friendly confines of Imlil, a Berber village connected by pony paths and cultivated terraces to other mountain villages.
The glacier we climbed to get above the refuge. You can see a person in the middle of the picture.
From near the peak, at sunrise
Children from one of the villages en route
A village in the hills, with mosque and minnaret in front
My final view of the Atlas, from a poppy field
3 comments:
Beautiful. I especially like the first picture with the tiny person in the center to give the grand scale of the place.
Poppies and the Atlas - WOW!Your pictures and descriptions make me feel as if I am there.
Also, let me know when we talk nest time - What is in the colorful sacks? It looks like different colored popcorn!
As majestic as the comprehensive shots are, I spent the most time looking into the faces of the children in this post. I wish to see people! I know it's considered taboo to film them, but when you do manage to highlight a human face I'm always touched. I feel more drawn into these far flung places by others' eyes, brows, cheeks, etc. than by any other means. Thank you, Brett. J
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