“Nature’s first green is gold, Her hardest hue to hold. Her early leaf’s a flower; But only so an hour. Then leaf subsides to leaf. So Eden sank to grief, So dawn goes down to day. Nothing gold can stay.” I’ve loved this poem by Robert Frost ever since I came across it a couple years ago. He reflects on the fleeting nature of beauty — that nothing perfect can stay as it is forever. I took these photos one early Autumn morning in Tuscany (and never shared them as I didn’t know if they looked special enough… 🙃). Sunrises this time of year are something else. If you get lucky (as I did that morning) the fog collects along the hillsides in just the right way, that when the sun appears it magnifies through the mist with blinding orange light. As if you’re looking through smoke & the entire sky is on fire. It’s brief — once the sun rises higher, then the mist begins to evaporate, the fiery flow fades, and the hills return to their soft blue-green color. I was so enchanted by the sk...