My mind is still sluggish from sleep as I nestle down into the soft grass adjacent to this patch of thistles. I've had very little rest. My then-four-month-old son was up half the night, and catching a Canadian sunrise in the last few days of summer means an early start. Braving the wee hours of the morning, my dad came with me, grandson in tow, as we navigate the Alberta countryside's backroads. Driving east from our little family cabin. Looking for the right spot.
 
I see the pond first, nestled in a gentle valley. We pull over, and it's only as I walk away from the gravel road, through brambles and thickets, that I spy the thistles. Fluffy and white, like tufts of soft clouds caught on sharp stems. I love thistles. Their rugged beauty, instilling a sense of wildness. Gloriously untamed. So strong, and so pretty.
 
Especially when they're glowing in the gentle light of dawn. The sun's rays stretching over fields and forests like a languid yawn. Unhurried as it kisses the earth.
 
Each print is hand-signed, and comes with a Certificate of Authenticity.