Chapter 4
The sun was barely coming up when Ansel climbed out of his sleeping bag Sunday morning. He dressed quickly then stepped out of the tent, camera in hand. The mountains were bathed in a golden glow which slowly inched its way down until it touched the trees and the field. He took several shots, following its progression. Then he trained the camera on the cabin, catching Hugh just as he came outside.
“What are you doing?” Hugh asked, shielding his eyes against the sunlight.
“It’s called photography,” Ansel replied, taking a couple of shots of him, and of Orion when he appeared.
“Not of me, if you don’t mind.”
Ansel nodded, going back to shooting the area around the cabin. As he did, he said, “I’ve got some breakfast packets, if you like oatmeal with berries.”
After a moment’s
