The alarm cut through my dreams, a hot knife against my unconscious meanderings.
I looked blearily at my alarm and wondered why I would ever think the tinkled chimed and bird sounds would make a pleasant awakening.
Snooze.
No sooner had I closed my eyes than the alarm clattered in to my dreams like an unwelcome drunken guest.
Snooze!
But I laid in my bed staring at the ceiling debating whether I really wanted to get up and drive for 2 1/2 hours for the possibility of a sunrise.
After several minutes I decided no, I would sleep in, turned off my alarm, and snuggled deeply into my blankets. Then my hand was over the edge of the bed, picking up the pants I had deposited there the night before. First one leg, then the next. My shirt, shoes, hat, camera bag and I was out the door with car keys in hand.
Without thinking, I adjusted myself for the drive and sped off down the dark roadways. My only thought as I progressed was not to speed too much, the highways are lonely at 4:30 on a Sunday morning and I didn't want a ticket. A little over an hour later I was topping off the gas tank and grabbing a gas station coffee to keep myself company.
The air was filled with water, a fog that thickened and dispersed as I drove past farms and trees and finally started climbing towards the volcano. In Seattle we call Mt Rainier The Mountain, Mt St Helens The Volcano.
I was hoping to get sunrise from the Castle Lake Overlook, looking southeast at the volcano, color behind the snowy flanks and crater. But I would have to get above the fog.
Elevation marker 1,000 feet - fog. Keep going,
Elevation marker 2,000 feet - light fog, can see clouds, but no breaks in the clouds. Keep going.
Elevation marker 3,000 feet - clouds, and there are breaks in the clouds, maybe - no stars. Keep going.
As I rounded a corner there in front of me shone a sliver of the moon, shining like a beacon for me to follow. No stars, but there was the moon. This was going to be a good drive. I pulled into the overlook just after 6:30 as the sky was lightening on the horizon, and the clouds began to subtly blush.
Compose, shutter, compose, shutter, compose, shutter until the color faded. I listened to the coyotes howl in the distance.
I drove onto the Coldwater Visitor Center on the ridge overlooking Coldwater Lake. The Visitor Center is open limited hours on weekends during the winter. My destination was the bench below the Visitor Center with a view of the volcano peeking out from behind a ridge. Elk meandered through the meadow below me and the clouds blushed again. I played again with compositions before the color faded. I watched as a lenticular cloud built up around the crater rim, looking like a clouded comb-over. I moved along.
Heading back down the highway, I stopped at the Elk Rock Overlook as the clouds behind the volcano began to yellow from the morning sun and the volcano's comb-over smoothed itself into a wig.
Waking up early, mystery and loveliness happen in the infant hours of the day.
