Wednesday morning catch

 

It's not often these days that I get dragged out of the basement early in the morning because of dawn's possibilities, but Wednesday I did. I knew that band of clouds would break into flames just as the sun came up, so I grabbed the camera, got in the car, and went down the gravel a ways to see what could get in the lens. 

When clouds burn, they're so showy; and the production on Wednesday was stunning, as it always is.

And here's a failure. I pulled up on a bridge, and the moment I did a couple of scroungy river ducks took off in the opposite direction. Because the river itself--low as it is--mirroring the dawn--was gorgeous, I stopped the car, opened the window, put on the big lens, and shot, while those two little farts were high-tailing it. The result is a mess, largely because they're too far up river, and because I was in a such a blasted hurry to get them that I didn't get a steady shot. Could have been the best-of-show, but I missed. See those two birds?

I really loved the way this window lit up. The barn is recently painted in an odd color really, bluish off-white, which only makes the shot more interesting. Missing those ducks was a shame, but there's something about this image that's oddly inviting.

Somewhere in my files, I've got other shots like this. Out on the horizon, a row of trees mask the sun's incredible luminosity and make a shot possible. But the clouds leave too much wasted space between cloud and land. Still, the color is wonderful, that buttery tan that's always remarkable.

I like shots like this one, where the sky--which is almost always a bigger part of the story than I realize--really gets featured. The sun is up, blocked out by the old shed, but the lighting is fan-shaped and wonderful here. I think I may say that. All I did is click the shutter, had nothing to do with creating the landscape. 

The sky is closing down for the morning now. I lightened this one to bring out what's there on the river banks, including an odd cloud of misty light just beneath the sun, some ghosts right there on the river. The Floyd River is barely a creek right now. You could wade across and barely get your knees wet. We need rain.

So I'm on my way back home, when a couple of neighbors appear, also out sight-seeing I guess.  It may appear that the rooster is taking in the scenery, but you can bet he keeps one eye on me.

At 73, I can't help but think that all mornings are blessed; some blessings are just a tad more colorful.