With any kind of lovely dawn, something about this tree, a mile south of the blacktop, down an eighth of a mile from Dogwood is just gorgeous. I've got dozens of pictures of it, from all kinds of angles. It's sits out there all by itself on a road the county doesn't keep up, and it foregrounds a space, a wide-open landscape that seems iconic.
On this particular Saturday morning--February 27, 2009--it just happened to be shimmering.
I don't know if I'd call this morning subject more or less enchanting. The ice is almost a shock, but it imprisons as much as it beautifies. One more--
Once the sun gets a head of steam, it pours forth that Midas touch that is itself a reason to be out there down some gravel road.
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The richness of that gold mantel turns everything heavenly.
If you think there's any beauty here--with this shot--thank light, the gilded spell of early morning.
To be honest, I don't remember that morning, but I'm happy to be reminded by what the camera recorded, fifteen years ago.
"Farch," some people call it right now, a season two boring month roll slowly along while we wait for emerald to be born once more. But, hit it right, and even "farch" glows.
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