Inspired by the Bon Iver song Towers, I took a small six a.m. adventure to photograph in the swampy August dawn. I couldn’t see the shoreline because of the fog, and dew still clung to the leaves and spiderwebs. The light was soft. Purple and pink cast over everything. I sat on the old wooden dock in my sweatpants and Birkenstocks and watched the sun come up. It was so quiet. What they don’t tell you about watching a sunrise is that you have to get there early. Otherwise you miss it—the mist and the purple and the silence.
