This morning I crawled out of bed begrudgingly, feeling like a bear who should be hibernating in the warm depths of a cave and not getting up to face a frozen day and the chilly routine of the morning commute. After all it wasn't my commute.
Today is my day off. But because my Hubby needed a lift to work due to the icy conditions, I had to leave the snug enveloping warmth of the duvet to get the car ready for the road.
I wondered if I could due my duty, get back home and jump back into a still slightly warm bed, check my messages from there and start work later.
The outside world had other plans for me though.
I crunched through the icy grass, rimed with hoar frost, ignoring the steeply sloped paved path, in favour of a less tricky surface.... OK so I just like walking on the grass ;-)
At the top of the steps by the garage, the silver lining of my morning cloud was immediately apparent. The light was beautiful. The early sun was driving misty corridors of light through the beech tree, the autumn leaves lit up like baubles on a Christmas tree. Even the normally bland grey of the tarmac drive showed gold through the filigree of light and shade.
Of course, the run to work was pressing and my camera was in the house. My phone would never do the scene justice. It didn't matter. I had seen. I had felt. My mood was changed in an instant.
The work run took it's usual course, the press of traffic and people, the grindingly slow progress, the plethora of instructions from cold automata with their own unending rhythms. Nothing was going to burst through my personal bubble of light and colour today though.
Duty done and I couldn't wait to get back to put that feeling into words. Capture the morning before it disappeared like a dream half remembered as you wake. It isn't what I usually do. I usually take a picture, write a short piece in explanation, add some data from the camera and leave the viewer to interpret as they see it. My thinking was that a viewers relationship should be with the picture, not with me as photographer or artist. The only sharing I should be doing is the process not the emotion.
I think at the grand old age of 55, I've had an epiphany. I should be sharing more than just pixels and paint. A viewers own feelings and thoughts won't be negated by sharing mine, but they may just be enriched. I wouldn't be going back to bed, I would be writing, looking back at all those posts and descriptions and discovering again what moved me at the time, adding back the colour to the black and white of process.
I arrived home ready to get straight to work on the keyboard. I was, instead, greeted by the same scene as when I left. Granted, the sun was higher, the mist more vapourous but the feeling was still there. I ran to grab my camera. Yes, literally ran, and 5 minutes later had a shot or two I am happy with. I'll be printing one and hanging it above my computer as a permanent reminder to share the vision not just the visual.
I hope the picture moves you too. Feel free to share in the comments.
For information only, camera settings F6.3, 40mm ISO 200 exp 1/8 sec. Olympus OM EM1 with 40 - 150 kit lens.