Judging by the trails of footprints in the snow in the vicinity of the Sentinel, I guessed that a number of people had been there in the snow before I had. But they were all gone.
Sometimes the mist rises from below, even in the late summer or early autumn. I suppose the patch of haze in the upper lefthand corner of this picture is nothing but the light of the nearby lantern. I should have used a hood around my lens, but I didn't happen to bring one with me.
It can be hard to decide which is the definitive image of a given subject, even when one is making a selection from amongst images taken within a period of a few seconds. The multiplicity of images and the unresolved decision as to which should represent the subject may, in fact, be the subject.
When I arrived at the Viewpoint this evening, there was an impressive almost-full moon. the sky was still fairly blue, and the moon, not officially full till tomorrow, was casting a strong reflection on the lake. Tomorrow I'll go back to see the blue moon.
When I was at the Viewpoint this evening, I noticed that the five lights that illuminate the park after dark do cast some light onto the trees growing in the ravine below. You don't much see this cast light unless you walk under the laurel tree, where there's no light shining in your eyes, our you walk right up to the edge and look outwards, towards the view. I'll have to deal with this further.
I stopped by the Viewpoint this evening. There was a circle of five or six young people, probably in their late teens or twenties, sitting in a circle to one side of the laurel tree. They were talking up a storm, but once I walked into the center of the park, they suddenly grew silent. I didn't go any closer to them. It's like birds--you don't go too near, or they might take off in a hurry.