Oh. . . Wow.

I heard Jeff's muffled, "Looks like it might be a nice sunrise." 

One of this season's understatements.

I really had other things I wanted to do but I crawled across the bed and pulled back the curtain. . . .

Ohhh. . . Look. . . 

Then in full-speed mode my feet went into my slippers - never mind that they were on the wrong feet.
I snatched a camera, yanking off the lens cap as I went out the door.

Click. . . a few adjustments to the camera then, click,

. . . click,

. . . click.    
I slowly scanned the eastern hilltop. Light and color evolved quickly with each passing second.  I wanted it all.
Click . . .

. . .click,

. . . click.
Lavender, pink, hot pink, amber, blazing gold, red and orange;
black trees glowed against a neon backdrop. 
I need more words. Does some other language have better words to describe this sunrise?
Click . . .

Realizing I had fallen into that bottomless desire that hits most photographers at sunset, sunrise, the beach, and when we stare out the window of an airplane, I tried to stop. . . but couldn't.
Click. . .

. . . click, one last time.  I stood there a moment, part of the scene, imagining an invisible photographer behind me clicking away while my silhouette stood, dark, like branches of the trees,  outlined against a new creation.

Ohhh. . . Look.

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