We’re entering the darkest week of the year in Nova Scotia, when each day is less than nine hours in length. This morning, the sun rose at 7:45, almost two hours after I set out for a walk along the Salt Marsh Trail.
I often walk in the dark with the intention of seeing the sun rise while out in the middle of nature. If you’ve never risen early and braved the elements outside in the pre-dawn light, you’re missing a wonderful experience. It’s one that engages all the senses.
Too often, we really only on our eyesight. We only trust what we can see directly in front of us, and fail to engage our other senses when confronted with the unknown.
Walks in the darkness make us perk our ears more. The scent of trees in the mist and the sounds of waking birds and rushing tide waters all add to our perception of place and time.
Even on moonless nights, white objects stand out in the darkness. I wondered what creature attacked this seagull when I came across these feathers on my walk yesterday morning. A coyote? Not knowing what’s lurking in the darkness is part of life’s adventure. The challenge of facing our fears, whether real or imagined, shouldn’t prevent us from moving forward along the trail.
On this morning’s walk, the light drizzle soon changed to pouring rain. The droplets were caught by the flash of the camera and capture a bit of the magic that is felt at this special time of day when most are still asleep and warm in their beds.
The quotation below is from Canadian portrait photographer, Yousuf Karsh. Although digital photographs no longer require darkness for their development phase, his words still hold true.
Character, like a photograph, develops in darkness.
~ Yousuf Karsh
Here I am, all warm and toasty inside, waiting for daylight to be fully bright, and peering and squinting at your photographs taken in the dark. Thanks for letting me see what I would not otherwise have seen.
Pamela, if I could share the sounds of the water and the waking birds, you’d probably enjoy that too. The dim photos will have to be enough for today.
Late one moonless night when I took Miss Sadie for her walk–the Cowboy had not yet joined our happy family–I forgot my flashlight. Ok, how about an experiment? We know the path through the woods well enough to do it blindfolded, right?
Well . . . sort of. We did it, moving along the path entirely by feel and Miss Sadie’s nose. It was odd to see absolutely nothing. We were both very . . . alert. I’m glad I did it. I don’t think I’ll do it again. Definitely not in the rain!
Wait, wait – it’s raining there?
Gerry, I think it’s this alertness you write of that heightens our experiences in nature.
Yes it was raining this morning and now we have sunny skies and wind with temperatures that are just a hair above freezing.
An original interesting post!
Shame it rained, when you were anticipating the sunrise.
Living on the east coast, like you, we have to make the best of sunrises as we don’t get the sunsets.
Steve, I was also hoping to avoid the coming rainfall, but didn’t manage to do that either. Thanks for stopping by.
Love that last photo.
Thanks Yousei. It was taken while looking down from Bald Eagle bridge.
I couldn’t agree more with Karsh.. Must check his photos.
Justastroll, you won’t be disappointed. His black and white portraits are among the world’s best.
I’ve never even thought of walking that early – perhaps I will!
“The challenges of facing our fears, whether real or imagined, shouldn’t prevent us from moving forward along the trail.”
What lovely, wise words, Miss Amy – today’s post was thought-provoking for me.
Cindy, that was actually yesterday’s post but that’s ok. Today’s guest post on ‘The Mountain’ continues along that same theme.
“Too often, we really only on our eyesight. We only trust what we can see directly in front of us, and fail to engage our other senses when confronted with the unknown.”
That is so true. And how many times are we so filled with thoughts that we remain only peripherally aware of our surroundings? To simply be present in Nature with all our senses is such a gift…
Kathy, I too am often distracted by my thoughts as I walk along. This happens most frequently on well trodden paths.
I have always admired Karsh’s work. I guess we are “of an age” to remember him.
You are far braver than I am, Amy. But, I agree that the need to foster these qualities is important. I’ll try it in a different venue. The few times I’ve camped have been lovely, as long as I was with others.
Best to all — Em
Em, I knew ‘someone’ would recognize his name
I’m sure more people would recognize his work before his name.
Some wilderness areas are undoubtedly safer to walk in than others. Personally I feel that, given the same amount of natural light, it’s safer to walk in the early morning than in the evening.