MORNING FOG

My husband never forgets anything; it is both a blessing and a curse for me.  I reap the benefits because he always knows what I like and want when it comes to gifts, food, basic comforts, Netflix, etc.  His elephant like memory is a double-edged sword when it comes to arguments, that's when you wish your spouse with the good memory had a bit of amnesia.  In passing I mentioned a couple times that I would like him to wake me up extra early the next time it was foggy out so I could go shoot by the lake.  I said it like one would say, "I would like to stroll around the streets of Paris one day". You know things you say out loud when you think no one is really paying attention; things you say so you can remind yourself that one day you will do those things, but maybe not in the near future. On Saturday morning before the sun had risen I rolled over in my very warm and comfy bed, my French bulldog resting flush against the back of my legs, as cozy as I will ever be.  My husband shook my shoulder and said "Good morning, I love you".  I was jarred from my slumber and snapped, "If you really loved me you would let me sleep." This is the point where I haughtily made my head into pillow taco filling and smooshed the sides against my skull to keep the noise (my husband) and light away. He calmly answered, "I do really love you that's why I am waking you up so you can go shoot at the lake, it's foggy outside." I knew that I wouldn't regret getting up, so I grumpily got out of bed, threw jeans, t-shirt and sandals on, grabbed our dogs and the cameras (both digital and film of course) and without coffee to make me 'human' we drove the short distance to the lake in silence. It was gorgeous.  It was better than any coffee--I drank in the view instead. The fog dissipated fast as the sun rose and the water went from dark blue to hues of gold and blue again. It was magnificent and I was so grateful that I didn't sleep through seeing the sun rise on the lake.  I was right I knew I would never regret getting up.