"Would you like to come to Khmelnytsky with us tomorrow?" my brother-in-law Andrij asked me during my stay in Ukraine.

Khmelnytsky, a city with the largest bazaar in western Ukraine, was a two-hour drive from my husband's hometown. My brother- and sister-in-law always left before dawn on their weekly trips to the bazaar to get the best deals. Every year when I visit Ukraine, I tag along with them to shop and to photograph the market area.

"Sure!" I said. "Just tell me when to be ready."

Normally Andrij and his wife Ira rush to get to Khmelnytsky as early as possible. As they speed through the countryside, I would sit in the back seat of their car, snapping mental pictures of the scenery - the rising sun, the shepherds taking their animals out to graze, the dew-soaked fields... Only at the bazaar would I pull out my camera.

But this year was different.

"We're not in a rush. If you want to take a picture, just let me know and I'll stop," said Andrij.

What an opportunity! I try not to impose on my hosts, so I rarely ask them to stop when I travel with them. This morning's invitation was a special treat.

The morning was enchantingly misty.

We came upon peasants herding their animals.

Not only was the dawn light phenomenal, but we also came upon a field where farmers were cutting hay the age-old way: with scythes. I felt I'd stepped back in time.

That morning, the mist, the peasants, and the countryside were magical. Unforgettable.

Back at my in-laws' house that evening, I uploaded the pictures to my laptop and showed the family what I had photographed.

A week later, after their weekly trip to Khmelnytsky, my sister-in-law mentioned to me, "You know, after seeing your pictures last week, this week's trip was different. I could see beauty that I had never noticed before."

It's all in the eye of the beholder.

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