This was a watercolor done by Thomas Moran on a survey expedition in 1873. He was a professional painter, but as this was time of the large panoramic canvases of America's outback, he wanted to do some it too. So he signed up to go with a US Army Survey party. Moran was a vegetarian, but Army rations were bacon and beans then. He had a rough time of it.
The cross is a natural thing caused by the fissions in the rock that fill with snow. 
I got to thinking about god and mountains. There's been a couple of times I prayed up there, if you can call it that. I wrote my dead sister's name in the log book on the top of Mt Whitney when I reached the summit. Another time it had to do with wanting to ask for protection for my lost daughter.
I'm not a Christian, I hate the whole martyr thing and guilt spread over natural things. I tried being a Buddhist for a while, but I kept falling asleep in meditation.
Years ago in therapy, I was asked to visualize my death and I came up with being very old and frail and lying in a bed by a open window overlooking a sunny hill where my grandchildren and great-grandchildren were playing. And just dozing off.
There was a naturalist that was dying from cancer and so, before he could no longer move about, he left his winter cabin and chose to freeze to death by exposure. It's supposed to be pretty painless- freezing to death- like just falling asleep.
I think I'd like to be up there somewhere. The cross isn't important.
It'd be nice if it was a sunny day.
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