Posts Tagged: sunset

rose coloured glasses

a day like that

 

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Sunday morning loafing about around the farm. Eating eggs and bacon and fruit and sitting outside drinking second cups of coffee. Thinking about important things like, "remember antennas?"

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Seeing lovely Kathleen Edwards at an outdoor event the second time this summer, and in fact the music is terrific all day long, and the Windsor Salt Band at closing time makes us not want to leave.

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Two up on the hill, playing with that golden sunlight.

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More golden sunlight, on golden gals.

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The party's over, but there's a river I've known. I'd forgotten that in Amherstburg the sun sets on the river, and it takes us a long time to leave the park when the light looks like that.

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A gentle evening; Sunday afternoon wine drinkers and food tasters all gone home to get ready for a new week.

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Playing

 

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Detroit River, one more time.

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Bonfire, talking; it's too warm in front and chilly behind. But it's a pleasant shuffle, forward, backward, forward, backward, toes stretching toward the flames…

 

in which the universe chooses deep indigo blue

A few minutes ago, feeling unproductive and tired, as I usually do in late afternoon, I go into the kitchen at the office and peel an orange, which I hope will revive me somewhat, and appease the onset of hunger over my journey home. 

As I’m sectioning the fruit, I look out at the snow-covered picnic table on the rooftop patio and find a most gorgeous indigo cast to it and filling the atmosphere as far as I can see.  I can’t see that far – the sky is heavily overcast – the Toronto skyline, the thing I usually look at from this window, has disappeared.  

Whatever light is getting through those clouds to the landscape around me is reflecting on the layer of snow and creating this rich, velvety blue.  The houses and trees below are black shadows against it; and the glow from the streetlights has muted to soft incandescent spots, looking as they might in a cheesy scene on a Christmas card. 

I stand there and eat my orange and watch that colour, because I know it will be gone in a few minutes. 

I love to watch how the light changes, particularly in early mornings and at twilight time.  To see the subtle change in the light and the movement of the colours it paints is, to me, bearing witness to the magic of this planet.  Stopping to watch the light change causes me to slow down my thoughts, and just exist in tandem with the rhythm of the universe for a few moments.  And that’s as reviving as anything.