We were out early, walking the quiet paths around Spring Creek in Canmore before the sun fully broke over the horizon. The town was still asleep, and the only sounds were the faint rustle of leaves and the soft crunch of gravel underfoot. As we rounded a bend, the view opened up—there were the Three Sisters, just catching the first warm light of dawn.

The little wooden bridge framed the scene perfectly, nestled between trees with the reflection dancing in the calm creek. It felt like stumbling into a storybook—everything still and glowing, even the air felt golden. I didn’t have to go far for this one, just had to be out early enough to catch that perfect, fleeting light.