It was of a celestine blue that faded into a mist, unfurled over the coastline of the lake. The mountains appeared to jut up into the sky with ribbons of white laced onto their crests. Distant evergreens shadowed the snow, and white steamers soared as clouds above a sapphire glaze that mirrored it all. It was a divine palette that Mark considered his front-row-center on paradise. He made a mental note to send Trapper Garza a picture postcard.
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