The world looks different in the early morning. The streets are quieter, the air is crisp, and the light has a softness that disappears as the day unfolds. Even when the temperature hovers at a brisk 4 degrees, there’s something magical about stepping outside with a camera, embracing the cold, and seeing the world before most people are awake.

I lost feeling in my fingers in the first 20 minutes.

Shooting with an old Fujifilm xt-1 is always fun.

Providence is a great walk, there are visula treasures everywhere.

Photographers chase good light, and few times of day offer a more delicate glow than the moments just before and after sunrise. The sun rises slowly, painting the sky in pastels, and frost clings to surfaces, transforming ordinary streets and landscapes into something ethereal. The golden hour may be famous, but the blue hour—those final moments before dawn—can be just as breathtaking.

What a nice design for a place to sit.

There’s a peace to walking with a camera when the city hasn’t yet woken up. The usual hum of traffic is subdued, footsteps are rare, and the only sound might be the soft crunch of frost underfoot. It’s a time for solitude, for noticing details that get lost in the rush of the day—mist rising from a quiet river, the way streetlights glow against a frozen sidewalk, the first hints of sunlight kissing the tops of buildings.

So glad I didn’t miss this work of art!

Walking outside at 4 degrees may sound like an endurance test, but the chill becomes part of the experience. Bundled in layers, with breath turning to vapor in the air, you become hyper-aware of your surroundings. Your fingers might tingle, your boots might leave deep impressions in the frost, but these small discomforts are reminders that you are present, alive, and fully engaged with the world around you.

I really enjoy shooting architecture.

So, the next time you hesitate at the thought of an early morning photo walk, remember: the best images often come when the rest of the world is still asleep. Even at 4 degrees, the beauty is there—you just have to step outside and find it.