Although I knew in my heart of hearts that the sun would be in the wrong position to improve upon my shot of ‘rural perfection’ of the evening before I couldn’t resist getting up at dawn just to be sure. Being reasonably confident with my thoughts I decided to take the long way round to the farmstead and crossed the road in front of our motel instead. The parched, brittle grass splintered rather than bent out of the way and the erupting dust clouds clung to my trousers. There was not a sound to be heard and the wooded slopes of the Parâng Mountains were still partially clothed in a fine morning mist. With not a soul in sight I was alone with the calm tranquility of a new day and spent some time simply absorbing the moment and watching the light and landscape slowly change before continuing to my spot of the previous evening. Having tarried a little too long, the soft morning light had disappeared; it was now direct, harsh and unflattering. With a little of the magic gone from the scene I confess to being a tad disappointed at being proven right!
(All images are copyright to Noeline Smith)