The rocks here in the park are painted with various shades of lichen, from straight-up forest green to lighter minty green to pastel sky blue. From across a valley, an outcropping of the latter can look disconcertingly like stubborn patches of snow.
Here on this steep, exposed section of trail, I have the opposite problem. At first I don’t notice the icicles dripping from outcroppings and the cushions of old snow tucked between boulders and moss patches. It might be chillier tonight than expected.
Then again, this is the north face of one of the tallest peaks in the park. Up here, I meet the cool, persistent west wind that roared through the hilltop trees last night. Surely the hut will be more sheltered. Surely.