High clouds moved in and out over the Eastern Sierra. A small creek flowed through the grove of aspen in full color. Then the sun suddenly broke through and the aspens lit up with such golden intensity it was nearly blinding. The little stream reflected the aspens perfectly as it babbled lightly competing with the rustle of thousands of golden leaves rustling in the slight breeze. In another minute the clouds moved back in overhead and the breeze blew a bit harder causing leaves to float down through the brisk air to line the banks of the creek with golden medallions. We went searching and found a heart of gold in the High Sierra Mountains.