It’s too early.
Sunrise in the summer here in Northern Minnesota happens at “I just went to bed O’Clock” in the morning, so it’s not often I’m out of bed early enough to enjoy it. I’m actually a fairly early riser, but not that early.
Which is why, after hitting the snooze until I was juuuust a little bit late to catch it on Saturday, the fact I dragged my backside out of bed on Sunday morning felt like a real accomplishment.
Grabbing coffee and trying to formulate a plan of where I wanted to try to make a few photographs during this elusive summer sunrise, I found myself at a small local lake in my hometown. Carey Lake is small, has a little swimming area, a few daytime campsites, a fishing dock and miles of walking trails. Oh, and the sun would be rising directly across the lake. Sounded like as good a plan as any.
When I got there I could see the light mist and fog rising up off the lake as the sun was cresting the treeline.
It was so still.
No wind. Only calm water with a layer of mist swirling above it.
It was blast of refreshment. I had forgotten how much I enjoy sunrise. Everything feels so fresh, so hopeful. The grit of the day hasn’t settled yet.
You watch, and participate, as the world around you comes alive.
Birds sing and take flight. Dew covers the grass, catching the warm light and letting it shimmer ever so briefly. The trees seem to stretch and stir from the slumber of night.
And with my camera in my hand, working quickly to not lose the light, I soak up it’s energizing power. Inspired by what I see, but more by what I feel.
Pure, refreshing, creative energy.