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Posts Tagged ‘sunsets’

Night sky over the Grand Canyon

Mother Nature’s Silver Lining

 here are places in this world where, when looking up at the night sky, you can clearly see portions of the Milky Way, the galaxy we live in. It’s a magnificent sight. But those places get fewer and fewer every year because we humans are fond of lighting up the dark, creating a light pollution that dulls our view of the stars.

 Some cities, including Tucson where I live, have ordinances that limit artificial-light pollution. Supposedly, Tucson’s location in the heart of the Sonora Desert, has the darkest sky of any city its size in the country. And because of this, astronomers come from all over the world to visit nearby Kitt Peak National Observatory, home to some of the best sky observation telescopes in the world.

 I’ve visited the observatory, but only during the daylight hours. The best sky watching I’ve ever experienced came when I was rafting down the Colorado River through the Grand Canyon, especially in places where the canyon was tall and at its narrowest. As I lay in a sleeping bag on a sandy beach, I could actually see the stars move across the thin strip of visible sky.

 It was magical, a moment in nature that connected me with the whole of the universe. Thinking about those Grand Canyon nights still leaves me awed.

 Sky watching here in Tucson doesn’t compare. But I’ve never seen more spectacular sunsets than the ones that I see most nights from my third-floor balcony here in the city. They, too, are magical, a silver-lining for surviving the daily news.  

Pat Bean is a retired award-winning journalist who lives in Tucson with her canine companion, Scamp. She is a wondering-wanderer, avid reader, enthusiastic birder, Lonely Planet Community Pathfinder, Story Circle Network board member, author of Travels with Maggie available on Amazon (Free on Kindle Unlimited), and is always searching for life’s silver lining.

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Great Horned Owl — Art by Pat Bean

          The western sky was glowing orange and purple as I walked down the stairs from my third-story apartment to give my canine companion Scamp his last walk of the day. I stopped to watch — while Scamp watered a couple of trees — as the fiery scene slowly vanished below the horizon. Never have I lived where such a late evening sight happens most nights of the year.

          And just as the colors coalesced into the dark hues of night, our resident female Great Horned Owl silently swooped across the courtyard to land in the giant Ponderosa where she often sits for hours. She and her mate have raised chicks here in the apartment complex all but one year since I moved here in 2013. It’s easy to tell the genders of the pair because the female is about a third larger than the male, a common trait of raptors.

          The night felt magical, as if the Sun and the Owl had put on a special performance for my eyes only. Such moments seem to happen to me a lot, but I never tire of them. While I still have itchy feet that wants to explore all the places I’ve never been, I’m glad my own backyard can still thrill me.

          Richard Bode, author of First You Have to Row a Little Boat, said he once met once met a man who had visited every exotic place from the Grand Canyon to the Great Wall, but then admitted he hadn’t seen the songbirds in his own backyard.

          I met quite a few people like that when I was traveling this country in a small RV. People, like me, came from all over to visit some waterfall, cave, or other wonder of nature, and the person who lived just 10 miles away had never taken the time to view it. How sad.

          If ever there was a time that we needed to be given proof that beauty and wonder can exist amongst chaos, these days are it. I need sunsets and owls, and colorful flowers and fall leaves, and hummingbirds and coyotes to keep me sane.

And thankfully, they’re all just outside my apartment door.

          Pat Bean is a retired award-winning journalist who lives in Tucson with her canine companion, Scamp. She is a wondering-wanderer, avid reader, enthusiastic birder, Lonely Planet Community Pathfinder, Story Circle Network board member, author of Travels with Maggie available on Amazon (Free on Kindle Unlimited), and is always searching for life’s silver lining.

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Sunrise in a Different Place

“Know where to find the sunrise and sunset times and note how the sky looks at those times — at least once.” — Marilyn vos Savant

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Sunrise at my apartment in northeast Tucson. -- Photo by Pat Bean

Sunrise at my apartment in northeast Tucson. — Photo by Pat Bean

“What is the good of your stars and trees, your sunrise and the wind, if they do not enter into our daily lives?” E.M.Forster

Fuel for a Wanderlust Soul 

I spent the night at my daughter’s home last night. We live 13 miles apart, she on the southwest side of Tucson, and me on the northeast side of Tucson. When I took Pepper outside to do her business this morning here, the sky was still dark, but with a creeping streak of blood-orange color barely peeping through swaths of low-lying inky black clouds.

A more fiery Texas sunrise. (I didn't have my camera with me to photograph this morning's sunrise here in southwest Tucson.) -- Photo by Pat Bean

A more fiery Texas sunrise. (I didn’t have my camera with me to photograph this morning’s sunrise here in southwest Tucson.) — Photo by Pat Bean

Fifteen minutes later, when I rechecked how the sunrise was progressing, the entire eastern horizon was ablaze with streaks of fiery orange color and purple swaths of clouds set beneath a deep blue sky. It was a magnificent sight that took my breath away.

On my side of Tucson, sunrise comes a few minutes later, usually rising up above a landscape ridge in a golden glow. It offers a quieter awakening to the day. But sunsets as seen from my apartment’s balcony usually go out with a bang that rivals any fireworks display.

I find no better way to welcome the day than by watching the sunrise, nor a better to way to end it than by watching a sunset. I’ve watched many in my lifetime, and have found each one beautiful in its own way. No two are ever alike.

Watching these miracles of nature makes me feel good to be alive — and  thankful for my many blessings.

Blog pick of the day. Check it out.

Blog pick of the day. Check it out.

Bean Pat: Medicine Lake http://tinyurl.com/l55ztkk Jasper National Park. Beautiful photos that rekindled my memories of when I visited this awesome landscape.

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“The sound of colors is so definite that it would be hard to find anyone who would express bright yellow with bass notes, or dark lake with the treble.” – Wassily Kandinsky

We watched what looked like was going to be a dud of a sunset. Even when the sun slipped below the horizon, the sky barely glowed yellow. And then suddenly, as if someone finally remembered to turn on the painted gels, the sunset sky exceeded even our expectations. -- Photo by Pat Bean

We watched what looked like was going to be a dud of a sunset. Even when the sun slipped below the horizon, the sky barely glowed yellow. And then suddenly, as if someone finally remembered to turn on the painted gels, the sunset sky exceeded even our expectations. — Photo by Pat Bean

            “I’m an old-fashioned guy … I want to be an old man with a beer belly sitting on a porch, looking at a lake or something.” – Johnny Depp

Point of Interest

            I consider my trip last week – in which my friend Jean and I and our two loveable dogs, Pepper and Dusty, camped overnight beside Theodore Roosevelt Lake — as part of my current lifestyle as a non-wandering wanderer.

Roosevelt Lake Bridge is the longest two-lane, single span, steel arch bridge in North America.  -- Photo by Pat Bean

Roosevelt Lake Bridge is the longest two-lane, single span, steel arch bridge in North America. — Photo by Pat Bean

I intend not to be one of those people I met during my travels who never saw the landscape marvels or points of interest in their own backyards.

And since Roosevelt Lake is only a leisurely three-hour, scenic drive from Tucson, I figured it close enough to at least be situated in the South 40 of my rented estate.

The western sky about 10 minutes before it burst into color.  -- Photo by Pat Bean

The western sky about 10 minutes before it burst into color. — Photo by Pat Bean

The lake, located north of Globe alongside Highway 188, was created when the Theodore Roosevelt Dam was erected on the Salt River in 1911.

With a length of 22 miles, a maximum width of two miles, and a maximum depth of almost 350 feet, the lake is Arizona’s largest. That is if you don’t count Lake Mead which sits partially in Nevada and Lake Powell which sits partially in Utah.

One of the best parts of spending the night at a campground is the opportunity to watch the sun go down, and then to sit around a campfire. Somehow tales are taller, and the world’s problems more solvable when you’re dodging smoke by continually moving your lawn chair a bit to the right or left.

Better yet, when the wind’s blowing the smoke away from you, as it was surprisingly doing for us this night as we sat around the fire with the dogs at our feet.

Sometimes life is just damn good.

Jean and I, and I suspect Pepper and Dusty, too, are already looking forward to our next campout. I hope it’s soon.

Bean Pat: A Mixed Bag http://tinyurl.com/padl2g3 When you find yourself in a hole.

 

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Tucson sunset -- Photo by Pat Bean

Tucson sunset — Photo by Pat Bean

  “We must learn to reawaken and keep ourselves awake, not by mechanical aid, but by an infinite expectation of dawn.” Henry David Thoreau

Can you feel the passion in this sunset? I can. -- Photo by Pat Bean

Can you feel the passion in this sunset? I can. — Photo by Pat Bean

Sunrises and Sunsets Come in Infinite Colors 

An Arkansas pink and purple morning. -- Photo by Pat Bean

An Arkansas pink and purple morning. — Photo by Pat Bean

A Texas dawn. -- Photo by Pat Bean

A Texas dawn. — Photo by Pat Bean

And I love them all — infinitely.

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             “The best thing about dreams is that fleeting moment, when you are between asleep and awake, when you don’t know the difference between reality and fantasy, when for just that one moment you feel with your entire soul that the dream is reality, and it really happened.” —  Oprah Winfrey

"You are never too old to set a new goal, or dream a new dream. C.S. Lewis

“You are never too old to set a new goal, or dream a new dream. C.S. Lewis — Photo by Pat Bean

They Feel So Real

Gone are the days when falling in love, or lust, with my latest hero, Roy Rogers, Stewart Granger, Sean Connery, were the theme of many of my dreams.

Do cloud sulphur butterflies dream? -- Photo by Pat Bean

Do cloud sulphur butterflies dream? — Photo by Pat Bean

Thankfully, also gone are the recurring nightmares of a dark figure standing over me that lasted into my 30s.  It was always worse when I slept in a strange place. I once woke a whole household with a reactive scream when I awoke from the dream.

I banished that nightmare myself, the instant that I envisioned that dark figure as someone who was guarding me from harm. It’s amazing what the mind can accomplish.

These days I dream writer dreams, complete with well-thought-out plots and intriguing characters. When I awake from these dreams I want to go back to sleep and dream them some more, especially if I don’t know the ending of the story.

Then there’s my current nightmare, which almost involves me as a reporter involved in covering an important story. These dreams have to be a hangover from my 37 years as a journalist — and they almost always end with me missing a deadline and suffering the consequences. On awaking from these dreams, which seem so very real, I try to remember to tell myself it’s only a dream.

I haven’t yet thought of a way to end this nightmare. Perhaps I should just tell myself it’s OK to miss a deadline, but then I’m not sure I can even speak that sentence.

So what do you dream about?

The Wondering Wanderer's blog pick of the day.

The Wondering Wanderer’s blog pick of the day.

Bean’s Pat: dogdaz  http://tinyurl.com/mvjmut7 If this blogger can find something to be thankful for, than I’m sure the rest of us can. I do so believe it’s a zillion times better to have a half-full glass than a half-empty one. And evidently so does this person.

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            Sunrise, sunset. Swiftly flow the days. Seedlings turn overnight to sunflowers. Blossoming even as they gaze. Sunrise, sunset. Swiftly fly the years. One season following another, laden with happiness and tears. – Lyrics by Sheldon Harnick and music by Jerry Bock, from “Fiddler on the roof.

Where in Timbuktu Did May Disappear?

I looked at the calendar this month and saw that the end of the month was only a few days away.

I didn’t realize I had seen that many sunrises and sunsets. I’m not always successful but I try to catch them both.

One means the start of a new day

Pink and purple to start the day. -- Photo by Pat Bean

Pink and purple to start the day. — Photo by Pat Bean

 

and the other means I survived whatever the day brought my way.

And orange and gold to end it. -- Photo by Pat Bean.

… and orange and gold to end it. — Photo by Pat Bean.

 

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          “When you squeeze an orange, orange juice comes out – because that’s what’s inside. When you are squeezed, what comes out is what is inside.” – Wayne Dyer

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Last night’s sunset as viewed far range from my balcony. — Photo by Pat Bean

        And when you squeeze a kid, the truth comes out.

Why it is Orange of Course

          My friend Caroline’s 5-year-old grandson told her heaven was orange. She said it took her a while to digest that, but finally she asked “Why?”

          “Because red is for fire! And orange happens when day starts and ends.”

          “Duh,” she replied, as did I when I heard the explanation.

          And last night proved just how right the five-year-old was.

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And a zoomed-in closeup five minutes later. It’s my belief that watching sunrises and sunsets is the best way to start and end any day. — Photo by Pat Bean

The Wondering Wanderer's blog pick of the day.

The Wondering Wanderer’s blog pick of the day.

          Bean’s Pat: The hummingbirds are coming. http://tinyurl.com/alwd53j One of my favorite bloggers.

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            “I venerate old age; and I love not the man who can look without emotion upon the sunset of life, when the dusk of evening begins to gather over the watery eye, and the shadows of twilight grow broader and deeper upon the understanding” – Henry Wadsworth Longfellow.

This is how the sky looked when Pepper and I first went outside to watch the sun go down. — Photo by Pat Bean

Adventures with Pepper: Day 23-24

I left readers wondering about whether I would drive on the Kentucky or the Ohio side of the Ohio River today.  But the big question I had to answer first was whether I was going into Cincinnati to do a little sight-seeing, or was I going to skirt it.

And this is how it looked a few minutes later, when I thought it could get no more colorful. — Photo by Pat Bean

While I truly can enjoy big cities, I prefer to do so without an RV as my mode of transportation, and without a dog. Since I was stuck, happily I might add, with both, I decided to skirt the Queen City by taking Interstate 275 across the Ohio River and through Kentucky – Yes I know, I hate freeways but it was the easiest and quickest way to get away from city traffic.

Thankfully I was only on 275 for about 35 miles before I crossed back over the Ohio River on the other side of its big curve. Ohio came out the winner as the state of choice for the majority of today’s travel.

Once in Ohio, I veered south onto Highway 52, also known as the Ohio River Scenic Byway. I was seldom out of sight of the river the entire day.

But then it did. — Photo by Pat Bean

My route took me past Ulysses S. Grant’s birth place, where of course I stopped to investigate, but didn’t linger long.

I think I had wondered my brain out yesterday, for when I reread the notes I had jotted down on the drive to put into my journal later, there were none.  But I didn’t need notes to remember that the best part of the day was the evening, which I spent backed up to the Ohio River at Wolford’s Landing outside Portsmouth.

The day’s biggest thrill came when my canine traveling companion, Pepper, and I watched the sun go down over the Ohio River. I stayed an extra day at Wolford’s in hopes of a replay.

Book Report:  Travels With Maggie up 55,902 words.

The Wondering Wanderer’s blog pick of the day.

Bean’s Pat: Travel Books http://tinyurl.com/cng8jzl This blog intrigued me because I’m a big fan of travel books, and of the five favorites this blogger mentioned, I hadn’t read four of them. Of course I’m going to check those four out. How about you?

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 “Clouds come floating into my life, no longer to carry rain or usher storm, but to add color to my sunset sky.” Rabindranath Tagore

 

Looking eastward at the sunset over Lake Walcott, Aug. 17, 2011. -- Photo by Pat Bean

Travels With Maggie

There’s a scene in the first released episode of “Star Wars” in which Luke Skywalker is standing outside at the end of the day, staring at the sky.

You immediately know he’s not on Planet Earth because the sky is lit by two moons. That scene has long stayed with me. It had a haunting quality about it that imprinted on my catch-all brain.

The scene flashed in my mind again the first time I visited Lake Walcott in Southern Idaho a few years ago. As always, Maggie and I were taking our walk at the end of the day.

We were standing on a point overlooking the lake, her sniffing at a bush, and me staring up at a princess pink sunset with a half-moon framed between glowing clouds. It was an awesome, but not unfamiliar sight – until I realized I was looking east.

Quickly turning around, I saw a second sunset, a Halloween orange one peeking from behind cottonwood and Russian olive trees. This was the real sunset. The eastern one was a trick of the lake.

 

The same sunset view looking west, Aug. 17, 2011. If you look carefully you can see Gypsy Lee beneath the trees, -- Photo by Pat Bean

The calm water, acting like a mirror, had captured the sunset and then reflected the hues, now muted, up into the clouds.

Depending on the weather, the clouds and what’s hanging around in the air, the sunsets here at Lake Walcott range from a”Brahms Lullaby” to the clash of cymbals in Beethoven’s “1812 Overture.” While the eastern display is barely visible on quieter nights, it can outshine its western source on the louder nights.

I’ve seen both versions many times now since this is my second year as a summer volunteer campground host here at Lake Walcott. But they can still can take my breath away.

And they did that just two nights ago. I was standing at my favorite spot overlooking the lake when the show began. It lasted for a good 10 minutes, going from pastel to vibrant hues than fading into darkness.

I wish you had been here to see it with me.

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