Moody Gorge

It was chilly that morning. Not the kind of cold that seeps into your bones and stays there for the whole winter, but there was a certain crispness to the air that said fall is here. The sun, quite sensibly, stayed well below the horizon, probably trying to sneak one more cup of coffee in before it had to report for duty in the sky. The gorge slumbered on, dreaming of whatever it is that gorges dream of.

Realizing it was running the late, the sun leapt into the sky, completely forgetting about the whole idea of of a slow and colorful sunrise. Everyone, including the now-grumpy gorge, was taken completely by surprise and scrambled to get about the day. Almost everyone, that is, for the New River Gorge in West Virginia, after taking a quick look around, decided to pull a blanket of fog over itself and go back to sleep.

The sun, now that it was in its proper position, would have none of that and burned the fog away. The gorge made more and went back to sleep. The foggy tug of war continued, back and forth, forth and back, for quite a while that morning as the two battled it out. Eventually the sun won, and wisps of fog were all that was left. In the middle of that battle, however, this photograph was made, reminding me of that wonderful, moody morning.

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