I lay in bed on Friday night, planning tomorrow’s shoot at the Preserve on the Cosumnes River. I want to catch the sun rising behind a row of trees . . . this yellow red globe behind silhouetted branches . . . this red and yellow cloudy curtain around it . . . this myriad of winter geese taking flight . . . this nose-numbing cold biting my sleepy fingers . . . this icy ground shining in the dark . . . this bitter scene frozen in time.
I drive south on Bruceville Road in the pre-dawn overcast . . . alone except for the waking birds and lone three-leg-tender eyeing the horizon . . . alone except for the anticipation of capturing that first promise of a new day . . . alone, but never all alone.