Posted in color, memories

Glowing orange skies

After yesterday’s post, the evening sky called and demanded equal time.

I’ve written about the colors of dusk before, awed as the sun painted the bottom of the clouds one final time before retiring for the night. No shade of orange was left behind at the end of this day.

While pink greets me at the beginning a new day, orange won’t let go when that day comes to a close. It hangs on like the embers in the fire pit that glow long after everyone has closed their eyes for the night.

Once again, before I passed two utility poles, the colors had faded, stars appeared, and darkness punched in for the overnight shift.

This picture reminds me of a moment twenty-seven years ago when wild fires burned out of control in our county. A day before we were told to evacuate, we could see the glow on the horizon, wondering if the flames would consume our home. Thankfully, the fire came no closer than half a mile. But the memory is seared into my mind, reawakened when the day ends drenched in every shade of orange you can imagine.

Posted in color

Another unique pink dawn sky

The rays of pink penetrating the dawn sky took away my breath. I took a picture, knowing they would last but a few moments.

For some reason, two-thirds of the way through summer, the sun, clouds, and sky collaborate to create living works of art.

Thick air greeted me as I stepped out of the house. Even though the sky was clear, no humidity had escaped overnight. The moon and a couple of planets hadn’t yet retired for the night. The birds had just begun to sing. The longer red and pink wavelengths stretched up from behind the trees, rewarding early morning walkers with a beautiful pallet of colors.

I’ve seen lots of pink dawn skies, but I’ve never seen this one. And I’ll never see it again.

Posted in noticing, outdoors

Around and around

We were almost home from a morning walk when I noticed a large circular contrail in the sky. I’m used to seeing the contrails of early morning flights crisscross the sky. I don’t remember ever seeing one that circled back on itself.

I took this photo facing east, so the jet would have been out over the ocean. We guessed the plane was in a holding pattern, waiting for clearance to land. As we looked, we could just see the plane at the front of the contrail, heading back north, most likely into Jacksonville.

When I looked up circular contrails, a conspiracy website said they were actually chemtrails. According to them, some sinister group was spraying toxins into the air to poison a population. That’s an imaginative idea to be sure.

Another person suggested it was a flight pattern for training. That’s possible. We’ve seen a lot of air national guard planes and helicopters overhead the past few weeks.

Anyway, it was a beautiful part of this morning’s sky.

Posted in Life

Sky before screen

In her “Choose to be Curious” podcast, Menka Sanghi encourages , “Every morning, before you look at your screen, just make it a rule that you’re going to see the sky.”

It’s a habit. I wake up, grab my phone and wander into the kitchen to start up the coffee maker. When the screen come to life, I’ll see notifications about a completed dishwasher cycle or an iOS update. My screen displays the current temperature and the number of view of my blog. I’ll glance at the weather for the day and notice how many new emails I’ve received overnight. I get sucked into the digital world before I’m even awake.

But what if I were to go outside and look at the sky? I’m going to find out. First thing in the morning, I’ll step out onto the back patio with the big dog and look up.

It’s still dark out. I notice the phase of the moon. There’s usually a planet close to it. I wonder which one it is? First I hear, then I see the lights of an airplane passing overhead.

Or the night sky is giving way to early morning orange and pink colors in the east. I wonder how many hues of pink and orange there are?

There may be clouds in the distance. Or they may completely cover the sky. Sometimes they just hang there. But other days they are racing by swaying trees as a storm approaches.

Occasionally, I’ll see the sun peeking over the trees. It’s so bright I have to shade my eyes.

Once in a very great while, since I live it Florida, it will be chilly enough that I’ll see my breath in the air. I won’t need to check the weather. I know it’s cold.

It only takes a moment, but in that instant I’m connected to the day, to the natural world, not manmade tech.

I put that mantra on the cover of my journal: Sky before screen.

Posted in Life

A fiery evening sky

At certain times of the year, as the sun sets, it almost looks like the sky is on fire.

I usually have my phone in my pocket while I am driving. But on this occasion I placed it on the center console so I could plug it in to charge it. So when I turned onto this road and saw the fiery sky, I could quickly get a picture.

A photo can’t capture the palette of colors on the horizon. Who knew there could be so many oranges, reds, and yellows? If kept driving west, would I eventually reach a blazing fire lighting up the sky? Would I reach an active volcano, glowing with molten lava? Is someone smelting steel in a giant blast furnace off in the distance?

It’s a good thing I got the picture when I did. Those colors only last a moment. By the time I crossed the intersection, they had faded. The clouds had moved. The moment was gone forever, except in my mind and in my phone.

New crayons are essential at the beginning of an elementary school year. A box of twenty-four is all you really need. There’s a box of forty-eight that doubles down on all the different colors. But the best is the box of sixty-four. The assortment of oranges, yellows, and reds challenges all you thought you knew about color. Who knew that orange-red was different than red-orange? With hues like tangerine, pumpkin, and carrot in your hand, your sunset sky might look just like this one!