The diffused light late in the afternoon seems to play magic with clouds. I’m drawn to their beauty. So I drove out to Reservoir Ridge Natural Area late yesterday afternoon to watch nature play with the clouds and listen to the quiet. The air was still. I stood motionless, watching it all take shape. The quiet descended. It was a time for contemplation and for allowing myself to be touched at some deep level – a time for receiving photographs. I headed home knowing there would soon be a mysterious transformation into the darkness of night. And, it would happen without me.
We have a beautiful day with clear skies and sunshine. May see temperatures into the upper 40s.
The clouds looked inviting early this morning so I made my way to Pineridge in hopes of some colors in those clouds. But the colors I was hoping for did not materialize which happens when I set my expectations too high. Anyway it was wonderful to be there. I did return with cold hands and toes which always seems to make my mocha latte, made by Nate this morning, even better.
Blue Hour at Claymore Lake
I found myself in a funk while writing yesterday afternoon. So, with the sun still shining and about an hour left before sunset, I headed to Reservoir Ridge Natural Area to sit with all of creation and, also, to watch the sunset. I found what I needed. I am aware that when I leave I always need to carry home with me what I find there.
Some time after the sun has set, we enter the period of twilight called the nautical stage where everything around seems to turn blue. They call it blue hour because the sunlight’s blue wavelengths dominate due to the Chappuis absorption caused by ozone (you can check it out). I love this blue color and one of the many reason I gravitate to the twilight hours.
On a sad note, today is the 81st anniversary for the bombing of Pearl Harbor. It is a day to remember the lives lost on that day (both sides, military and civilian), the families of those who lost loved ones, and the millions of lives needlessly lost over the next four years of war. President Roosevelt in his speech the following day called it a day which will live in infamy. My prayer is that day of infamy be a time for the world to wake up to the fact that we have never found peace through war.
Everything is His. the door, the door jamb. The wood stacked near the door. The leaves blown upon the path that leads to the door. The trees that are dropping their leaves the wind that is tripping them this way and that way, the clouds that are high above them, the stars that are sleeping now beyond the clouds
and, simply said, all the rest.
When I open the door I am so sure so sure all this will be there, and it is. I look around. I fill my arms with the firewood. I turn and enter His house, and close His door.
… from yesterday evening: Now at RRNA. Silence. 8:05 pm. Nice and cool after the earlier rain. Love the smell of the wet grass in the meadow. Refreshing. Almost no birds to be heard or seen, but hear a distant blackbird and a killdeer. Love this sky. This is where I enjoy being. ❤️ More settled in my thoughts and soul when I’m here. I cannot run from life. No one can but this place is close. No wind! The sun has set and the light is fading. Two does and two fawns come up through the meadow, cross the parking lot towards the lake. My sisters. Pelikans drift on the lake. See some pink in the clouds. It is a good end to this day. Do not want to leave.
