"The Thin Red Line"
I like the mystery of a sunrise. You've committed; taken the plunge. You're there when most of the world isn't. You yawn, and try to shake the sleep from your soul...and you anticipate. When it comes, it's not always colourful. Sometimes it will arrive for seconds, and then fizzle. Other times grey turns into another shade of grey before finally settling on grey.
But then there's those times. Those times when you sit, wait, and the magic comes as a gift. Light, shifting and blurring and turning. Rising and falling. Ebbing and flowing and giving itself to what's there. I like those mornings. But, in fact, I like all the mornings when I'm there. Out there.
Bow Lake, Banff National Park.