It was already late when we reached this tiny motel in the middle of nowhere after a long day drive through the snowy white of the Rocky Mountains. We were exhausted, yet embraced by the kind of tiredness which keeps one awake from the excitement of the day. There was this endless white in the snowstorm, driving narrow roads almost with zero visibility – white, white, white – everywhere white. The snow in the air, the snow on the road, snow beside it, the sky in white. It was hard to stay on the track. Luckily, it cleared up later, and we found ourselves alone in a magic winter wonderland, the sun up high in an exaggerated blue sky with some lost little clouds. The wind had modeled the snow in smooth, yet bizarre shapes and prepared the untouched white surfaces ahead of us. We were enjoying the thought of being the first humans on a remote planet, discovering and creating new tracks. Finally the tiredness was creeping up, and after pulling the bed-side lamp’s switch, we were enwrapped in a velvety darkness.