Following Sunday evening’s sunset the final remnants of clouds were blown to the south leaving a clear starlit night, and the temperature dropped, resulting in the first frost of the season. Despite the clear skies, the dogs and I had to wait patiently, or at least one of us waited patiently and two of us kept pacing impatiently around the kitchen, until the grey dawn lightened sufficiently to enable us to walk out across the fields without being encumbered by a head torch and collar lights.
There was the merest hint of mist, just a faint vapour rising from the hedges to herald the first light of day, but it wasn’t until we turned for home that the sky turned distinctly orange, and a bright strip of light appeared behind trees at the far side of the field, widening as I watched the disc of the morning sun hauling itself slowly up into the cold sky. Both dogs gambolled happily around me as I stood in the crispy white meadow watching the slow birth of this new day. It always seems to me that the morning sun is slow to rise above the horizon, but at the other end of the day is quite enthusiastic about going to bed. I know the feeling, especially in winter…
Gorgeous capture and I love your narrative. I always find it difficult to get out in the morning to take sunrise shots. In the evenings I am busy and have rarely any time to go search for sunset. I need to have a dog to make me go out by force. But then my wife is afraid of them because of an incident she had with a dog when she was a little girl.
That's a beautiful photo and the scene beautifully described. i wish I could come to my senses early enough to get out with my dog to enjoy the cold frosty morning light.
