Goshen photographer Bob Labrie might be the sunrise’s biggest fan

Bob Labrie checks the color of the sky as he makes his way up the fire tower at the DAR in Goshen to take photos of the sun rise on Friday morning. Labrie has taken a photo from the top of the tower every morning that the sun is visible, which is 76% of the time, since the start of the pandemic nearly five years ago. 

Bob Labrie checks the color of the sky as he makes his way up the fire tower at the DAR in Goshen to take photos of the sun rise on Friday morning. Labrie has taken a photo from the top of the tower every morning that the sun is visible, which is 76% of the time, since the start of the pandemic nearly five years ago.  STAFF PHOTO/CAROL LOLLIS

Bob Labrie takes a quick look at the images he caught while quickly taking pictures of the sunrise from the fire tower at the DAR in Goshen on Friday morning. Labrie has taken a photo from the top of the tower every morning that the sun is visible, which is 76% of the time, since the start of the pandemic nearly five years ago. 

Bob Labrie takes a quick look at the images he caught while quickly taking pictures of the sunrise from the fire tower at the DAR in Goshen on Friday morning. Labrie has taken a photo from the top of the tower every morning that the sun is visible, which is 76% of the time, since the start of the pandemic nearly five years ago.  STAFF PHOTO/CAROL LOLLIS

Bob Labrie quickly takes pictures of the sun rise from the fire tower at the DAR in Goshen on Friday morning. The Goshen resident has taken a photo from the top of the tower every day that the sun is visible, which is 76% of the time, since the start of the pandemic nearly five years ago. 

Bob Labrie quickly takes pictures of the sun rise from the fire tower at the DAR in Goshen on Friday morning. The Goshen resident has taken a photo from the top of the tower every day that the sun is visible, which is 76% of the time, since the start of the pandemic nearly five years ago.  STAFF PHOTO/CAROL LOLLIS

Bob Labrie checks the color of the sky as he makes his way up the fire tower at the DAR in Goshen to take photos of the sun rise on Friday morning.

Bob Labrie checks the color of the sky as he makes his way up the fire tower at the DAR in Goshen to take photos of the sun rise on Friday morning. STAFF PHOTO/CAROL LOLLIS

Bob Labrie waits at the top of the fire tower at the DAR in Goshen for the sun to come up over the horizon to take photos of the sun rise on Friday morning. Labrie has taken a photo from the top of the tower every morning that the sun is visible, which is 76% of the time, since the start of the pandemic nearly five years ago. 

Bob Labrie waits at the top of the fire tower at the DAR in Goshen for the sun to come up over the horizon to take photos of the sun rise on Friday morning. Labrie has taken a photo from the top of the tower every morning that the sun is visible, which is 76% of the time, since the start of the pandemic nearly five years ago.  STAFF PHOTO/CAROL LOLLIS

Bob Labrie waits at the top of the fire tower at the DAR in Goshen for the sun to come up over the horizon to take photos of the sun rise on Friday morning.

Bob Labrie waits at the top of the fire tower at the DAR in Goshen for the sun to come up over the horizon to take photos of the sun rise on Friday morning. STAFF PHOTO/CAROL LOLLIS

An enhanced image taken by Bob Labrie from the fire tower at the DAR in Goshen on an icy morning. 

An enhanced image taken by Bob Labrie from the fire tower at the DAR in Goshen on an icy morning.  FOR THE GAZETTE/BOB LABRIE

A picture of a sunrise taken by Bob Labrie earlier this week.

A picture of a sunrise taken by Bob Labrie earlier this week. @BOB.LABRIE.PHOTO

By SAMUEL GELINAS

Staff Writer

Published: 01-03-2025 5:16 PM

GOSHEN – The astronomers of antiquity would keep watch through the night, tracking the patterns of objects in the celestial dome. Bob Labrie, a Goshen resident, is probably as close as you come to a modern successor of these ancient watchmen – one with mobile apps and a camera.

Each morning that the sun is visible, which for the past five years has been 76% of mornings, Labrie photographs its rise as part of an interdisciplinary ritual – a mix of meteorology, astronomy and photography. His sunrise images, while inviting and serene, are captured oftentimes under the least serene circumstances. Rising early to capture “the predawn light show,” he finds a 70-foot high perch on the fire tower of the Daughters of the American Revolution State Forest (DAR) in Goshen for an uninterrupted view of the daily cosmic event.

“I am on the far end of crazy when it comes to doing this everyday,” he said on Friday morning when he detailing his daily ritual – one that began in March 2020 during the pandemic, and has captured the sun in 1.6 million images since. Photography has long been a passion for Labrie, who was head photo editor for the school paper  when he attended Western New England  University, and extreme weather is some   thing that gives him a thrill.

Beginning the night before to prepare for the morning, he uses several apps that he monitors daily, which feed him information on clouds, air temperature, wind direction and other data. For one, there can’t be clouds to the east to see the sunrise, and he watches the cloud patterns in anticipation for the early mornings. Cloudy days tell him to stay in bed, he said. He is there to photograph the sunrise.

On Friday, Labrie, who is retired after a career with United Healthcare, prepared for a 20-degree morning – for him a mild temperature. Over the last nearly five years, the coldest he’s experienced on the fire tower is -14 degrees, and in the summers he has not yet seen the temperature surpass 70. However, he expects that will change to climate change.

With several layers, heated gloves, hand-warmers and a 50-pound backpack carrying his camera, he was ready for Friday’s display.

The DAR is a 20-minute drive from his house, which he follows with a three-quarter-mile walk to the fire tower. During the hike to and from the tower, Labrie takes down his thoughts using his notes app, later posting 17-word prose of his reflections next to his photographs on Facebook. His reflection on the wind from Thursday led to a post in which he called the rocking, clanging fire tower a “harmonica” due to the strong, whistling winds which Labrie is prepared for nonetheless.

“Bob takes his cam right here and straps it to the railing so it doesn’t blow off. And you never want to just set something down,” he advised.

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He has attracted what he describes as a “small army” of followers, among them Fat Tire Tom, an Ashfield resident who bikes (with fat tires) around the DAR forest occasionally. Labrie does the trek also for those suffering from medical conditions, unable to make the journey on their own. He said that while his kids might be less excited about his “affliction” and “addiction” to his routine, he hopes the pictures will solidify his legacy with his grandchildren, who he hopes may one day be curious to see the pictures.

But he also does it to prove wrong those who would write off western Massachusetts as a barren woodland, Labrie said, adding that his pictures are a statement that say: “I think you’re mistaken,” to those who would think that about the region. “This is my Yosemite.”

Along Friday’s walk, he said, “If you look at the color in the sky, you see a little change to purple. It’s not gray, there’s a little color there. That’s a good sign that’s what’s got me smiling” he said, making the walk up to the tower while the earth was still mostly dark.

Then, arriving at the base of the tower before climbing its 72 steps, he said: “When I’m on the ground I look up at the top of the pine tree because that’ll tell me the conditions at the top of the tower. Is it breezy? is it calm? Because right now, look at the top of the pine tree. Nothing any more, which is beautiful. It’s wonderful when you can be up in the tower and there’s no wind.”

Continuing: “So that’s number one. Number two you look east, and I can see pink. Yeah, that’s why I know it’s gonna be a good day.”

Getting to the top, which unveils a 70-mile view, Labrie noted several spots. He pointed out Mount Wachusett just north of Worcester and the lights on Sugar Loaf Mountain’s holiday tree which stands 10 miles in the distance. He drew attention to the the control tower lights at Lia Honda on King Street in Northampton, as well as the Federal Aviation Administration’s radar site “due west” in Windsor, but Mount Monadnock in New Hampshire, which he said normally stands prominent, was invisible Friday. But Labrie mentioned he could see that there were flurries over Vermont.

On Friday, sunrise was at 7:20 a.m., and he warned there would only be a three-minute window before the sun would disappear behind the clouds.

“Notice how the clouds are starting to light up underneath. Something else I’m noticing right now is there’s a haze that the flurries that are dominating the sky,” he said, scouting the best angle as he used his short-range zoom lens to capture the moment. “So what that means is that the sun will not be a bright red circle, it’ll be diffused, which is why I take so many pictures.”

And the goal for his pictures, he said, is “I always want to show the circle of the sun,” and added that, “It’s magical up here when the valley is filled with fog.”

Samuel Gelinas can be reached at sgelinas@gazettenet.com