Lately, the sun has been setting not long after I get home from work. The temperatures have been pleasant so I usually walk in the front door and towards my sliding door to open it and let in some fresh air. As I open the door to my west-facing porch, I catch the reds and oranges of the sunset beginning to flood the sky. I almost always go and grab my camera to take a picture of yet another lovely sunset.
I have countless photos of sunsets taken from my porch just in the last month or so. All of them were taken at roughly the same time and roughly the same angle (note the ever-present evergreen), and yet none of them is alike. In fact, it amazes how different they are.
Clear and bright.
Warm and radiant.
Rich and painterly.
Soft and resilient.
Steadfast and soothing.
Dark and dueling.
I think the two low spots where the sunset is poking through the clouds look like a pair of demonic eyes.
And today’s shot as the storms roll through:
Muted and obscured.
I’ll never tire of watching and capturing the sunset. I’m sure I would feel the same way about the sunrise if I were up early enough to witness it. Don’t be expecting a post entitled “A Series of Sunrises” any time soon. Partly because I don’t have a clear view to the east to capture the sunrise and mostly because I don’t like getting up in the dark.
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