The sky is overcast this morning, the wind a tad raw, if not quite as raw as the day before. This morning the cloud cover made the pre-dawn minutes darker than is so on a clear morning. I went outside to take fresh water to the chickens, glancing quickly at the gray sky and wishing for the promised warmer temperatures to arrive sooner rather than later. And barring that, I would settle for the wind to calm so the temperature I had would at least feel warmer.
The chickens’ water freezes solid overnight, so I switch their water in the morning and evenings. They were just waking up, and I don’t like for them to go without water even for a few minutes after a long night. This morning they ambled over to the fresh water, in no hurry, so I knew I wasn’t late bringing out the new water.
And then I turned to go back into the cabin and saw the morning sky suddenly turn a bright pink, like a young girl’s blush. The camera was close at hand, so I quickly snapped a few shots. None do the sky’s glory any justice, but perhaps you can get a sense of it even so. Perhaps the photos will remind you of some similar morning where you live, an old memory made fresh again by a triggering similarity seen today.
If I’d had a choice, I would have chosen a more interesting foreground for the sunrise than a veil of winter’s trees, but sunrise waits for no camera and for no mad dash down to the pond or anyplace else. This sunrise lasted just a minute, perhaps two, before it paled and disappeared behind the gray clouds. I carry the memory of it with me this morning, a rosy glow against the drab.