Have you ever stood on a winter night
By the blue-white spire
Of a mountain crag when the ice blue moon
Flooded the world with blue-white fire?

The silence of that dead white world
Like some spirit screams.
And stabs of fear like spears of ice
Stay forever to haunt your dreams.

The fir trees white and ghostly tall
Like crystal spires
Stand and point to a blue-black sky
With stars like coals of an ice blue fire.

Walk not too much in that dead white world
Afraid and alone
Lest your heart be lost to the world of men
For the hills will claim what is their own.

These are lyrics of a song by Methow Valley native Ron McLean.