Every time I get up with the sun, I am rewarded. The first photos I ever took – this was seven or eight years ago – were of dead leaves. Then, as I healed, I began to see the color and light in the world, and I devoted myself to the light. At sunrise this morning, I was again rewarded, as I often am. The strong morning sun lit up the sheep’s wool, the further back I inched, the sharper the contrast.