Once again I was up and out with today’s first light. To emphasize the phenomenon of my recent early rising, here is a comment left by a friend in response to the Adventures With The Buttcrack of Dawn entry I posted yesterday:
“I am thoroughly impressed. Having van-dwelled, roommated (in a very non-mating kind of way) and worked together, I understand the extent of your am-phobia. Cabin living is making you far too healthy. Seeing the sun rise at the beginning of the day used to be for people who jogged. Please tell me you haven’t taken up jogging. Because there is integrity in rising at the buttcrack of dawn for the perfect photo. Jogging just sucks.”
A friend of mine mentioned he thought this self-portrait looked like an ad for a rustic microbrewery, a pair of hiking shoes, or MEC. I don’t know how this rugged outdoorsy-ness managed to sneak its way into the photo, because although I probably did have a beer in my jacket pocket, the truth is I don’t even own a pair of hiking shoes and I would hardly know what to do with most of the goods in MEC. But despite the pseudo-sportiness, I think it accurately reflects how the mountains are slowly seeping into my life and how I’m starting to understand why folks are so crazy about the Kootenays.
It’s possible I’m permanently damaging my precious peepers by shooting directly into the setting sun, but it seems worth it after the fact when I discover surprises my baby blues were blinded to while taking the photos … like a person on the edge of the water soaking up the sunset beams.
Once again, photo of Kootenay Lake in Nelson, BC.
Once upon a midday in late May I found myself gifted with a whole hour of being the only person on the entire beach (in Nakusp, BC). Fancy that.
I’m becoming seriously addicted to fleeting moments of magic mountain light.
Being nestled in the mountains, I’ve noticed that if you’re patient enough with Mother Nature’s temperamental behavior you’ll often be rewarded with brief mind-melting moments like a golden minute within the golden hour …
Yesterday I was taking a sunset stroll along the shore of Kootenay Lake in Nelson, BC. Just as I was about to head home in a fit of it’s way-to-freakin’-cold-and-cloudy-out-here, the sun half-emerged and for less than 5 minutes sun & rain & clouds & reflections & even a rainbow mingled into the stuff poetry & light paintings are made of.