Gentle awakening
We have had a warming spell here, the kind that signals a promise of Spring: open-the-windows-at-home, drive-with-the-windows-down, all-the-snow-has-melted sunny days. But that was a promise, a warm murmur whispered in our collective ear made by a seductive lover. 
Last Thursday night, we got back to our end-of-winter chilliness and we awoke to frost on ground—and on our cars. Friday morning, a wintry start to the day by defrosting the windshield and scraping the windows. And a last-minute decision to grab my camera. A spectacular sunrise always makes me want to take photos; but Friday morning was a gentler sunrise: pink-hued and softened by a mist, there was still something inviting about the morning. So, while I waited for my car to warm up, I took some photos of the bay. Here, the sun rise over the now-open bay: the ice melted last weekend. But there was frost and stillness in the park.
Driving to work, I kept noticing that beautiful mist. When I took public transit, I could really look at and enjoy these views. Now, while driving, I have only limited time to see all the beauty along the highway. But, I am still fortunate 
enough to have a beautiful area near my work. I’ve always wanted to photograph these boulders that were placed along the edge of the road. I have no idea why they were placed there by the town—for beauty? to prevent parking? to add to the terrain?—but I’ve always been fascinated by them. Friday morning, they and the grass they sit on were covered by the frost. So, I stopped to take these photos.
I still love the spectacular sunrise (or sunset). But this past Friday I realize I truly appreciate a softer awakening that eases me gently into my day. 
Sunday, March 29, 2009
I took this photo at of my defrosting rear windshield, March 27, 2009, at 7:28 a.m. I love how the morning sun is refracted through the ice crystals.