My Dad picking me up one Feb. morning to go trout fishing in Western NC. Riding to our local fishing spot we fire up our La Glorias saved for such an occasion. We had an inch of snow or so overnight, and there was fog frozen on all of the trees. As we arrive and get out of the truck, string and bait our poles, the sun peeks over the ridge. We walk down to the creek smoking our cigars and talking quietly, to stand at the fishing hole. With the sunshine of dawn shining through the ice on the trees and the fresh fallen snow. Each branch and twig lighted as a diamond! We stood several moments in silence smoking, in awe of the moment. We turned back to the truck in unison without a word, knowing the beautiful moment needed to be remembered undisturbed.