The evening before one Father’s Day, my wife Heather, said that I should go shoot sunrise and when I got home she would have fried chicken and waffles waiting. At the moment she was telling me to go, it was pouring down rain. The forecast was for the weather to clear in the morning with temps dipping well below freezing. I hadn’t been in Grand Teton National Park since ski season, so I really had no idea what to expect the next morning.

I woke at 4am to 10 degrees Fahrenheit with mostly cloudy skies, and ground fog. I wasn’t thinking anything was going to happen, but remember—a crappy day in the field taking pictures is way better than a crappy day in the office. I also had a get-out-of-jail-for-free card from my wife, so I figured it wouldn’t hurt to at least spend the morning looking for something to take a picture of. 

I pulled out of my driveway with headlights streaming through a dense fog. All of the moisture from the day’s prior rain was blast-frozen covering everything in little icicle droplets. 

As I drove out of the valley and up on to the bench the fog began to break. I could see the bottoms of the serrated Teton Peaks poking out of the lifting fog layer. The further I drove from town, the more the fog got left behind.

I decided to see if the arrowleaf balsamroot had started to bloom yet. As I made the turn off of the main highway through Grand Teton National Park, I could see the bands of yellow in the distance. I parked the truck, exited to a now whopping 15 degrees. Wearing shorts and an 800-fill down jacket, that day from a decade ago came storming back to memory like a freight train. Only this time, the flowers were iced over in a perfect state of color. Frozen in time with utter beauty and perfection. I spent a few minutes adjusting my composition, and then just waited for the sun to touch the Tetons with a perfect pink glow. Click.