The early morning hours were spent laying in the dark of a bedroom checking the clock looking from the bed towards the windows anticipating the silver light of the morning. 3:17 A.M., nothing 3:48 A.M., nothing. At 4:15 A.M. the glimmer of a pink glow illuminates the sky beyond the windows and it's time to rise from the bed and dress in a dash. Quickly and quietly gathering the easel, canvas, palette, brushes one slips out the front door of the house taking care to not wake the family dogs. A quick run down the street with supplies jingling and turp can sloshing arriving at the painting spot a mad frantic set up ensues while the eyes are fixed upon the horizon at the magnificent colors blooming. The brushes are flying and quick decisions are being made upon the canvas as colors swirl together...and then it happens. Within minutes of starting the painting a fog rolls in and the clouds overtake the sky. The light diminishes and the pinks and violets fade to gray. It would have been easy to be frustrated even discouraged. Laying awake in the dark sleepily checking the clock mindful not to fall back asleep and oversleep a colorful sunrise for an exhausted body was a bit of a battle. And then to watch a beautiful sunrise slip away so quickly was a momentary set back. But rather than feel frustrated I simply watched the morning evolve and took in something quite magical. Sometimes just being outside watching and observing and being completely present and perfectly still to take in all that is happening out there is just as important as working behind the canvas with brushes in hand. I will remember this morning :)