To rise and renew

Sunlight pours over the landscape along River Road in Woodstock, Vermont, on Friday. (Gareth Henderson Photo)

The day after a winter storm, nature puts on a brilliant, sparkling show of beauty, and Friday didn't disappoint. In contrast to the cloud-filled sky of a day ago, sunrise gradually filled the landscape with light as Vermont woke up to frigid single-digit temperatures. Some of us had more snow removal to handle, or snow to play in, but for others, it was a day to look out on and admire from the indoors — at least for the chilling morning hours.

That last line describes me well (the staying inside part), but by mid-afternoon, spending time at the desk became old, and it was time to check out this day of abundant sun and snow up close. The temperatures rose somewhat as daylight grew, but a strong chill hung in the air with the stillness of winter. The late-afternoon sun along River Road in Woodstock was sharp, piercing the snowy white landscape with its dazzling rays. The light, cast into the woods, held its graceful poise upon the trees and snow, as shadows boldly heralded the coming night.

Yet, this show of light and shadow was not gone in an instant. It had its own peace and permanence, with the light's power and vitality remaining strong even in seeming retreat. After driving to several spots along River Road where I could photograph the setting sun's brilliant impact, my wife and I took a walk along the section near Billings Farm. By then, the sun was hitting only the very tops of the surrounding mountains, and I was pondering how spectacular certain views would be during sunrise, when the veil is lifted for the day. The graceful transition from darkness to morning holds a timely lesson, that the light can’t be forever hidden. It must always rise and renew everything in its path. That's sunrise — buoyant, joyful, strong, advancing. It always returns, with the hope of a day renewed.

— Gareth Henderson