Dawn came and went fast, but while it was there it was something, long flat clouds lit gorgeously across the eastern sky. But clouds came up quickly and made the bright sun bob and weave, so there wasn't much to shoot at. In addition, I simply stayed in one spot, a deserted farm (the barn will be gone soon, as you can see) on one side of the road and a massive cottonwood (hollow enough for a bear's den) on the other. The roadside was festooned with white wild flowers of some type. I've come to believe that photos, like stories, need both setting and character--a gorgeous dawn is fine, but someone has to be in it--flora or fauna or humanoid. Hence, this morning was the day of the white flower (of whatever name--I'll try to find out).
When I was going through the pics earlier, I thought of a high school grad pictures, now taken at all kinds of creative angles. That's what I thought I might do--try to get these long-stemmed folks into all kinds of poses and backgrounds and lights.
Haven't been doing much Saturday morning stuff all year long. I should. I mean that literally--I should. For me at least, it's great therapy to get up early and just hunt for beauty. This morning, no lunkers; but I came home with my limit.