I love waking up before the first light, when the world is still and the air feels crisp. I usually head to a place where the trees feel like old friends—no traffic, no chatter—just the rustle of leaves and the distant sound of a brook. I sit on a smooth stone or a fallen log, set my camera, and let the moment unfold. If a cloud moves too fast, I’ll wait. I find that the quiet isn’t a big event; it’s a gentle invitation to breathe with the forest. The trick is to be patient and to trust that the light will reveal itself in the right way.