Dawn’s Quiet Call

As the years pile up I’m beginning to reluctantly acquiesce to the idea the best things in life often demand a little extra—like dragging yourself out of bed before the sun even thinks about rising. As bleary-eyed as I am, I have to admit there is a raw, unspoken beauty to being greeted by the moon just before it dips below the horizon. The world feels untouched. As a contemplative artist, I’ll spend the rest of my life embracing that feeling.

This morning’s sunrise hike was no different. It was about a 20 minute drive to reach the park and make my way back to the songbird trail. Fully caffeinated, clipped into the 180-600mm lens and I was off. The air still had a bite to it, the kind that makes you feel alive and slightly underdressed. The ground crunched under my boots and the pine roots did their best to trip me like they always do.

For me, a sunrise hike isn’t really about the photos - they’re nice, don’t get me wrong—it’s about being outside, the way it wakes you up, clears your head, it’s a meditation. I love the songbird trail because of the way the sunrise floods it and makes you feel like you’re in a cathedral. Everything just erupts into life.

I made my way back to the raptor forest, hoping to see one of those big gorgeous birds. I’ve seen a barred owl back there, it was an amazing experience just about 15 feet away, considering me with those big beautiful eyes, it was something I’ll never forget. I always go back and check.

Nothing this time except a trail runner and his dog.

A bit further down the trail, I came into the open stretch where tall grasses are still standing, with their golden-brown stalks lit up by the rising sun. I got down low, letting the light play through them, and took this shot.

Dance of the Reeds

I think of these grasses as a testament to endurance—dry and weathered from the winter, but still standing tall, catching the sunlight, holding their own until they explode with life and color again. I love the texture and the golden tones against the cool shadows in the background. Soon, these trails will be buzzing with life—wildflowers, bees, visiting birds, it will be such a playground I’ll be able to bring a tripod, and mug of coffee and soak it all in for hours. But for now, I’m content just to get my steps in and appreciate these early signs, these little hints of what’s to come.

Lately, it seems like the world has become a so neurotic and disjointed. Getting out for a sunrise hike clears my head. Puts some distance between me and the constant stream of garbage we all have to endure. I really, truly enjoy these quiet moments of solitude, watching the play of the light, how it shifts as I walk. Everything on this trail is in a way, a work of art. The best hikes are the ones where the camera just disappears in my hand. It’s hard to describe, it’s like I’m a mirror reflecting, honoring the beautiful things I see. I’m not trying to capture anything. Something about that word, capture, when people use it to describe a photography, sounds wrong to me… I don’t know why or if it makes any sense but it’s how I feel.

A little further down the trail, the gallery pears are blossoming and tell the story of transition, of winter giving way to spring. They’re in full bloom now, their white blossoms catching the morning light. Gorgeous.

Gallery Pear Blossom

Pure white, with a hint of yellow at the center, surrounded by leaves so green they practically glow. Spring is on its way… new beginnings.

I’ve been photographing nature for a while now, and I never get tired of moments like this—the world feels fresh, it’s just waking up from a long sleep. I laughed as I wondered if it ever has as hard a time getting out bed as I do.

Standing there, watching the light filter through the branches, I felt a quiet kind of gratitude. Spring’s coming, and with it, a whole new season to explore.

If you’ve never tried a sunrise hike, do yourself a favor and give it a shot. Pull on your boots, grab a cup of coffee, and get out there before the world wakes up. You’ll see what I mean—there’s nothing like it, especially with spring on the horizon :-)