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Dawn didn’t break so much as sidle over a sharp ridge, a smudge of grey light expanding above the wind-whipped terrain. The guy ropes of the tent I had crawled out of moaned – as they had for much of the night – and the mournful soundtrack seemed to swell as I surveyed the scene. It was 4.30 on a chilly morning in the Lake District and somewhere behind the immediate gloom of the overcast sky was the pink sunrise I had been hoping to photograph. Yet as if in spectacular mitigation the clouds suddenly parted and a single beam of sunlight hit the hills to the west. Instantly, magically, the colours of the landscape were revealed: green, gold, brown glowed with jewel-like intensity. Camera in action, I felt a surge of elation. |
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2020-01-23 14:26:28 |
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