It snowed last night. I took the camera with me, hoping that this dawning might remind my eyes of light. What I found the moment I walked through the door – the moment the sun crept over the lip of the mountains – was magnificent. I shot what I saw. Most of these are straight out of the camera – no fixing of anything. It was hard to get my breath. In the middle of winter and politics and money and waiting and aging and worrying, this is what I was given.
Now I give it to you.
Dawn
I kept trying to get him to look at me. The light inside was low. He’s blurred, but beautiful, and frosted.
A deer in the snow.
The sun broke through the storm clouds, then was swallowed again. Looking south.
Looking north. Like a different day entirely.
The sun, free again, and snow—beginning to form the wave once more. Fences covered with snow cased in ice.
South.
North
South
Now the sun lights the north also. And the ice crusted snow is full of diamonds. Fences covered with diamonds.
The odd texture of icy snow.
The dawn, broken.
Twin pines, perfect.
Twin pines no longer in silhouette. Flocked for real.
Home.
Belnaps’ ponderosa pine, each needle a white spine.
Good neighbors.
Kent Taylor, with his grandson – he took the kid along to show him what it meant to do service for friends.
John Marrott, who uses this little plow to free every un-manned driveway after every storm.
The Stones’ house.
He is in his late eighties, but he’s gone this morning at the crack of dawn on his own plow, doing the same thing. His trees look like crazy fireworks, or some kind of spiny sea creature.
Home. Home. Home.
Perhaps there is a lesson here.
On my level—shadows, but above it all an unbelievable eruption of light.
Hope in the morning.
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