|Sangre de Cristo sunrise|
Winter nights in the high country are obscure, eternal and inclement and the inkwell of black firmament is glittered with a profusion of silver pinpoints that contradict the startling silence. It’s a beautifully eerie combination of contentment and discomfort.
Down in southern Colorado, there’s a mountain range that’s as rugged as it is remote. Rising out of a desert situation, the chain of needle-sharp peaks extends all the way into New Mexico, transporting its picturesque allure across state lines.
The mountains are called Blood of Christ and if you ever witness a Sangre de Cristo sunrise, you’ll understand why. Just before dawn, the first solar rays are reflected off of snowy summits, creating a rosy alpenglow that astonishes the retina.
The steady transformation unfolds even more dramatically when a setting, full moon shines brightly in a purple sky. The crimson sierras come into full relief as the forceful contrast between light and shadow defines the surreal shapes.
After the pinkish atmosphere gradually dissolves, a basin full of life begins to emerge. Cattle graze peacefully in a swale of vast grassland while a herd of mule deer gather around a pleasant reflection pond.
Making the trek to explore a region untainted by progress is a much need respite from complicated circumstances. Morning in the Wet Mountain Valley demonstrates an observable truth - even during times of turmoil, light conquers darkness.
|Winter nights are eternal|
|Full moon shines brightly|
|Extending to New Mexico|
|Blood of Christ|
|The transformation unfolds|
|A peaceful swale|
|The atmosphere dissolves|
|A basin full of life|
|A pleasant reflection pond|
|Morning in the valley|
|Light conquers darkness|