Isabella Bird was born on this day in 1831.
Here is a passage from the book of hers that inspired my book, in which she’s describing a snowy, solitary horseback ride through the Rockies:
“I cannot describe my feelings on this ride, produced by the utter loneliness, the silence and dumbness of all things, the snow falling quietly without wind, the obliterated mountains, the darkness, the intense cold, and the unusual and appalling aspect of nature. All life was in a shroud, all work and travel suspended. There was not a foot-mark or wheel-mark. There was nothing to be afraid of.”