The rising sun shines through tree branches. The light is not yet strong enough to drive away the blue-violet night shadows. I can barely make out the individual shapes, it is all a mix of lemon and blue, orange and violet. There is no black or white, no vivid colors and no grays. Everything seems feather-light and transparent. The sunrays erase branches and leaves, blur the shapes of individual objects. Even a bush of grass right in front of me is barely distinguishable.
Monet was right. Under certain conditions, no matter how close you get to an object, light reduces it next to nothing.