Sunrise

In the quiet of the hour or so leading up to a spectacular sunrise, I am studying it, attempting to learn all that I can and improve my instincts for exactly what sort of scene will play out before me. There's so much that I can't discern until it's playing out in front of me, but there's a great deal that I've developed a sense for. I know people may tire of my devotion to capturing the first rays of light over my home, but it won't stop me from capturing it. While I have always appreciated a good sunrise, at its root, it all goes back to a simple prayer said on the National Day of Prayer in 2003.

Life has a way of changing your perspective. Sometimes a single moment can define you for years to come. That was the case for me on the morning of May 1st, 2003. It came with the last prayer I heard my mother pray; "Lord, thank you for the sunshine, even though we can't see it. We know it's only because it's where it's needed most".
Two days after that prayer, clouds covered the bay at dawn, but the sun quickly burned through them and remained the whole day. A couple hours after that sunset, my mother's spirit left us, following the sun into eternity. The ten weeks that she battled Breast Cancer were cold and filled with snow, rain and gray skies.

That prayer made me respect sunrises and the power and hope that they bring to people. Out of my love and respect for my mother Doris, I committed to the preservation of inspirational dawns wherever I happen to be. I hope that at the very least, you can respect that a deeper meaning drives my passion to capture the waking skies over southern Maine and hopefully, one day beyond to other horizons. If you happen to know someone who could use the inspiration of a bold and vibrant sunrise, please consider investing in my work as a source of encouragement. Tell them I caught this one for them, and I hope that it will encourage them to draw near to God and find the strength to continue on, to see what the next sunrise holds for them.