My natural instinct is to photograph the evening light, since I’m a bit of a night owl, but this morning I set the alarm to four o’clock and went out to capture the sunrise instead. A herculean feat, believe me, but my tiredness soon evaporated as I climbed a small hill and saw the sky turn pink and gold.
I’ve never actually watched a sunrise before. I’ve been up at dawn, yes, but then I’ve always been busy with something else. Today I just stood there and drank the light that spilled over the horizon and flooded the forest. For every passing minute, the colours changed, and I had this feeling of being there, of seeing the day start in a very concrete way.
This tree looked like it was still half asleep, the bark at the back still clinging to the chill of the night, while the lichen caught the first rays of the sun and basked in the warmth.
Finally the whole valley was aglow with morning light, each individual twig and fir needle sparkling and awake.
The beard lichen glittered like golden tufts of hair in the pine trees.
When I turned around and saw my equipment sitting there, basking in the sun just like the rest of the world, I had to snap a picture of that too!
My battery died, so I missed the sun-pierced veil of mist over the creek, but an hour later, I took a final picture in the forest behind the cabin. The sun is so bright that almost all of the colour drains from the photo, but I still think it conveys the calm of the place.