As is normally the case, I had no idea where I was going. All I knew was that it was before dawn on a Saturday and I was driving somewhere to take a picture of something yet to be determined. It's not a very exact plan but sometimes that's just how I roll. Often I have no idea where I'm going when I go out to take pictures. Instead of turning left I turn right and just go with the flow of random-ness in the universe.
I ended up outside the gates at Desoto Point looking at rain clouds and trying to remember why this was better than bed. I put on a poncho and walked to the shore. I told myself that once I got there I could turn around and head home knowing that I tried. Standing there in the rain I was grateful for the solitude, and the poncho. About the same time I noticed the clouds starting to break up. Sure enough the clouds parted, the sun rose and I captured the moment with what seemed to me like a bit of luck.
I could have left for home before the scene unfolded, or not even walked the trail to the shore. The fact that I did and stayed seemed to me at the moment to be more chance than purpose. That attitude comes from many occasions where it doesn't work out. So I suppose the odds were in my favor this time and I managed to get the shot, even if it was half by chance.