Arriving at Rocky Mountain National Park at 4:30 in the morning holds a certain magic...Perhaps it's the necessity of departing Denver at 2, or the nailbiting turns through the canyon into Estes in the middle of the night.

The world is still wrapped in darkness, and the crisp mountain air is filled with an exhilarating sense of anticipation, either way. And it's always something special. On this day, the goal was to reach the trailhead of The Spearhead hike at Glacier Gorge before it filled up. We managed to be one of the last cars to squeeze into the parking lot at 4:45 a.m. (the summertime madness of Colorado). A small victory that felt like the start of something special.

With headlamps on, we hit the trail, the beam of light cutting through the inky blackness in front of us. The sound of our boots crunching on the gravel echoed in the stillness, but beyond that it's always just the sound of the breeze in the aspen trees, a favorite sound of mine on day or night hikes. As we walked, other people joined us, their headlamps bobbing in the dark like fireflies.

Just as dawn began to creep over the mountains, casting a gentle glow on the horizon and the lakes we found ourselves surrounded by.

The morning unfolded with breathtaking beauty as we passed by each pristine lake, their surfaces like glass in the early light. An icy breeze rolled down from the peaks still carrying the smell of snow, and the invigorating scent of pine and earth, and evergreens.

The world always seems to hold its breath in these moments, as if savoring the last remnants of night before surrendering to the day.

Especially in the mountains. Especially in the early morning.

The sounds of the lake and forest waking up with the sun that morning were a symphony of nature. Birds chirped softly, and the wind rustled, creating a gentle whisper that seemed to inspire every step we took.

As is always the case when a city-dweller can break away, each breath is a reminder of the majesty around us, just beyond our concrete confines, our perceived daily woes, and it fills me with awe and inspiration.

That morning, as we made our way higher, the landscape transformed into a canvas of vibrant colors and textures, and when we broke the alpine line, I was sorry to see the lakes go.

The experience left an indelible mark on my mind, inspiring a painting that would capture the essence of that serene morning hike – the stillness, the cold breeze, the lapping reflective water, and the quiet awakening of the forest and the lakes. It was a reminder of the beauty that lives in the early hours, waiting for those willing to rise before the sun, especially in sunny Colorado.

I had to capture it!

I had to put it on a canvas.

I kept taking myself back to that lake's edge, and used some reference pieces for orientation and color mixing. Then, I threw myself into it!

This was a fun one - starting with the big shapes and working my way into the four major color blocks, then contrasts. While painting it, I found myself reliving that morning over and over again. Much like the process of writing a novel's scene, or the chorus of a song. A bottled feeling, and one without end during the creative process.

For those interested in the details of that hike - the one that inspired it all - here you go! Happy hiking and painting and doing whatever else makes your heart alight!