11:30 P.M. my alarm sounds. I wipe the tiredness away — well almost. This is not natural. This is when I am supposed to go to sleep, not wake up and my body is fighting against me. I do everything I can to wake myself up: music, shower and coffee. The night air is cold and unwelcoming, but the excitement of adventure counteracts all this.
Our lives are made up of moments, even if they are just fleeting. We remember the moments and not the hours. When you consider this, problems become smaller. A day can start off uninviting, but a moment can change all that.
This is the day I chase the sunrise (again).
I was itching to go and wait for the sun to rise. The walk was the only obstacle in my way. With James (my guide to the mountains and photo model) by my side, we began in the darkness. At this hour you can’t see what is to come, it hides the dreaded incline and uncovers the beauty of the stars.
The soft haze of blue hour met us as we climbed further into the clouds. We battled ridgewind, heavy camera bags and leg cramps all to reach the summit of Snowdon. The moment of rest at the top was welcome to my now aching legs. Our hands froze, birds soared high above us and finally the sun rose.
Although the clouds obscured the orb of the sun, there was beauty in the pink clouds or the way the golden light struck the peaks of the mountains. We had captured what we were looking for — not a photograph — but a memory. That experience will live with me as a moment of achievement and adventure.
These photos transcend the Instagram grid. They hold a memory; they hold a moment.