We’re driving home. The hills roll out before me, Mono Lake glistens in the distance, a light dusting of snow splatters the tops of the mountains that define the landscape. This drive, this view, is always a little different, but today it feels like something entirely new. I’ve just learned more about the landscape and begun to understand the science behind it. What I used to look at and think of as hills, are now the lateral and terminal moraines of massive glaciers that stretched from Yosemite into Mono Lake. The sudden rise of the Sierra comes from faulting, the erratic boulders are from ancient massive glaciers, the Bishop Tuft is from one of the most immense recorded volcanic explosions. All the little pieces of a view I see so often, come into focus with entire histories behind them.