Watching the sunrise over the Black Mountains, from the top of the Woody Ridge Trail.

The coldest morning of 2016

August 14, 2016

With the temperature hovering around the low 20's, and the wind blowing harder than I’ve ever seen or felt, I take in the view. It is beautiful - it always is. But I can barely breathe I'm so cold. I set up my tripod and the wind immediately knocks it over. I stabilize it by shoving two of the legs into a crack in a large rock. I lock my camera on it, set the timer, and pray it doesn't fall again. I get the above shot. This photo does not illustrate the severity of the weather conditions at all. Whatever. I'm so cold I can't even think. I have to get out of the wind.

Patience, and all is coming

August 12, 2016

I turn away from the revelry to look out over the ocean. The water is placid and the sky is plain—a wall of dismal, gray clouds blending into dark blue water creates a stubbornly monochromatic backdrop.

Well I’m here, I think to myself. I’ll just wait for a little bit. Maybe the clouds will break up some. Maybe the sun will poke through at some point.

Waiting. Waiting. Waiting. Why didn’t I bring my book? I wish my phone had service here. With nothing to do but occasionally glance over at the party kids—now they are sitting against a wall, leaning their heads on each other’s shoulders—I start to get impatient.