I really didn’t want to get out of bed. I was warm, wrapped in a cocoon of snuggly blankets. Might sound like a typical weekday morning to you. It wasn’t. I was on vacation in my most favorite place to photograph in the entire world, Colorado. If you’ve ever seen a Colorado sunrise in the Rocky Mountains, then you have experienced true beauty. When I was in Colorado, I never missed it. I usually wake up energized and ready to go while most folks remain snuggled in their beds with visions of sugar plums dancing in their heads.
This trip to Colorado was completely opposite from all the others I’ve taken. Before this trip, I’d map my shots like a general going into battle. I knew exactly when to start a pre-dawn drive, how many miles I had to hike in the dark and how much time I’d have to get my gear set up. My shots would be planned to the minute – literally. This trip, I just didn’t want to get up. Traveling in the pandemic didn’t feel like the escape I thought it would be. It created more stress, in a year where stress was the name of the game and I had been working longer hours in my day job than ever before.
At the time, the idea seemed brilliant. I’m lucky. I’m working from home through the pandemic. So, why not take advantage and book a month in Colorado? Prices were cheap and I was mobile. Added to that, my best friend in the world, my brother wanted to come with me.
He’s a photographer too. We’ve done short trips before, but here was a chance to spend a lot of quality time together. It was a no brainer. We booked an AirBNB and headed out. Driving 19 hours to Colorado. I hate driving. We disinfected our way through five states, masking, spraying, wiping.
By the time we arrived, the full weight of the pandemic and the stress it brought socked me in the gut. Throughout the beginning of the pandemic, we’d dealt with severe mental and physical health challenges within my family. That had been wearing on me as had the 16 hour days I was working in Corporate America.
Now that we were here in our cozy AirBNB, I just wanted to watch TV and sleep. Maybe I’d stroll around on trails close by to not feel like a total slub. My brother went full out. Photographing from before dawn until after sunset. Every day, he asked if I was coming. Each day I said no. Every day, he said ‘this isn’t like you’. He wasn’t wrong. Yet, still every day, I said no, I was going to take it easy. I needed to recharge my body and mind.
One morning he won. I agreed to leave the warmth of my cocoon and go photograph sunrise with him. My brother, my 19 yr old son and I gathered our gear and headed out before the sun had peaked over the horizon. In the dark, we climbed Trail Ridge Road and its hairpin turns until we to an overlook. No hiking required for this sunrise.
At first, the view before me didn’t seem like my jam. I like shots with grandeur and perspective. Big mountains with winding trails and streams. This had none of that. I was thinking I should have stayed snuggled in my cocoon. The energy bouncing off my brother was palpable. It made me resentful.
Still, I dragged out my tripod, hefted up my camera, fiddled with the settings and stood waiting. There’s a lot of waiting in photography. Normally, it’s full of anticipation for me. That day I felt nothing but annoyance and resentfulness. I was tired. It was cold. I thought the shot was crap. There wasn’t any good foreground and I was shooting with my telephoto zoom lens, which I hate. I was doing this for my brother not myself.
I stood, pouting, waiting for the sun and not expecting much. The sun coming up over mountains is pretty unpredictable. You never quite know how the clouds will reflect the light. This morning, there was humidity in the air. It had just stopped raining, you could feel heavy moisture and smell pine. Instead of inhaling and appreciating the crisp smell of nature, I just considered it another reason to feel annoyed. I was wiping droplets from my gear and I could see lightening in the distance. Never good when you’re in the mountains.
But, violent weather conditions often make the most striking images. All of that annoying moist heavy air started reflecting the sunlight from the first moment it peaked over the horizon. Drab gray mountains and scraggly trees burst into pink, washed into red and finally burned into an orange fire so brilliant it looked like a painting. I had years of photographing sunrises under my belt. I had never seen light like this.
Like the flick of a light switch, I was in the zone. All discomfort, boredom, annoyance and frankly, the world disappeared around me. All that existed was this miraculous display of light that surrounded me. My zone is quite like an athlete’s zone. Everything falls away. I heard nothing but my breathing, felt nothing but a protective bubble of my own energy as I raced to capture the light that I may never get to capture again. With pinpoint focus I moved around the viewing area snapping the swift changes around me.
Just as abruptly as it started it ended. The storm that had been threatening, boomed, knocking me out of my world of wonder. Reality set in, we hurriedly packed up and escaped to the car.
But for those moments I was at peace. I felt grounded, blissful and privileged. Getting out of cozy cocoon that morning, let me experience the miraculous. It reminded me to never get too comfortable, too complacent. When I do, I miss the life around me and the fire within myself.
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