That morning I was on a little crest, just under 600m, very close to home. I went to that crest 15 mornings in a row, experiencing the routine of waking up every day for sunrise and doing the same loop. More or less exactly the opposite of what I usually do, which is discovering new places all the time. Even though I must admit I started struggling with boredom towards the end, it was a great surprise to discover the actual variety in redoing the same path. I was still discovering little details every day and was astonished by the variety of atmospheric conditions. In that period I had rain, totally boring blue sky, mind blowing sunrises and even 10cm of snow one day.
That particular morning I was focused on a little sea of clouds to the east, waiting for the sun to warm up the blue hour abyssal colours. The sky was actually quite covered in that direction, and the subject was difficult to find among all the little hills of the valley. Thus after a bit of hesitation I decided to cross the little wood and go down the other side. I first fell upon the golden colors of a proud birch tree that I had seen a few days before covered with snow. Then I started playing with the leafless branches of a majestuous oak tree, the golden light illuminating the fog in the valley and leaves of more precocious trees. And then the show reached its apotheosis : the tree branches on the opposite crest started filtering the sunlight through the fog, projecting the rays on further down trees which filtered the light as well. This common countryside made of wood and farms transformed into another world, where pylons and warehouses were temporarily accepted by its original inhabitants.
