Morning Thanks

Garrison Keillor once said we'd all be better off if we all started the day by giving thanks for just one thing. I'll try.

Friday, October 28, 2022

October morning--fifteen years ago


It was either going to be boom or bust this morning, the darkened sky thick with clouds, a few jagged slashes northeast where the sun would eventually rise. I had decided to go early and get out a long ways away; but by the time I got around to getting packed and coffee-d, it was already a little late.

What's worse, the movement of those thick clouds wasn't promising. Rather than get 45 minutes away only to get shut out, I turned off the blacktop and went back to a favorite spot of mine, betting that the sun wasn't going to poke itself through all those clouds--remnants of a storm somewhere.

Still, it was beautiful--a big passionate sky, full of drama.


The little road I usually take was wet and muddy, but I started down until I came to a gully I figured I'd never get out of without four-wheel drive. So I backed all the way out--half mile maybe--and went back down the hill to a bridge.


There are a couple of great old stump cottonwoods along the creek at the bottom of the section, but they stand halfway across the field, a full half-mile of mid-thigh grass, heavy with last week's constant rain.

I went in. Inside of 50 yards, I could feel the water squish between my toes.

But I got there. I slogged through the long grass, all the while telling myself that the first rule of Saturday morning landscape photography is "be there." So when the sun finally peeked out--not for more than three minutes--I was well-positioned, even though it wasn't the show I was hoping for. 



Got some interesting shots anyway. Didn't go home empty-handed.

Check for yourself.



The morning sky was about an inch and a half from being a real stunner. I did what I could.

What I've noticed about myself through the last five years [this gallery dates from 2007] is that the joy simply of hunting isn't as great anymore. If I get skunked, I'm disappointed. Never used to be that way. For a couple of years, just being out there to meet the morning was the great thrill.

Got to get that back somehow. How? Don't know. I need a great awakening.
_________________________ 

Addendum: Last week on Saturday, at dawn I was out in the northernmost reaches of the Loess Hills. I kept worrying about getting some really good shots, kept thinking about how I could do it. And then I remembered thinking what I did at about this time 15 years ago--to wit, that the motivation for my being out there wasn't getting great pictures. I was out there to visit with the Creator. 


Some things don't change.

What's more, those two photographs on the end have turned out to be among my all-time favorites. 

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