Dawn, just before sunrise. I look out toward the northwest: deciduous trees in the foreground, mountains of snow piled high by winter waves covering what I know to be a rocky beach that juts out briefly into the water. Above the lake and obscuring it is a shifting mass of light blue fog. Above the fog, on the horizon, a band of purple that bleeds suddenly into a pink that fills the sky. The wind is calm but harsh; it drives a jagged, icy nail through my sinuses.

An early morning class has conspired with scenes like these to wake me up in the early morning darkness. I'm not complaining.