I am very lucky to have such lovely spots to see the sun set as I travel home from town. Red sky at nigh, sailors’ delight the saying goes. This sky seems to bode fair weather, or at least favorable winds for the morrow.
When seated in the country cemetery I described in an April post, small strange clouds floated above, like spirits visiting from another realm.
A crazy concept you say? Perhaps, but it was just one of those moments–like people say about a hilarious experience that falls flat with only mere words to describe it – you simply “had to be there” to believe it.
Each season holds its special experiences. Spring and fall seem the most spiritual to me.
October is another month when I begin to feel a closer presence of those who have passed on. But in a positive way. Nothing to do with skeletons and scary seances. The feeling comes to me as I see trees at dusk silhouetted in the sunset, feel the heartbeat of the earth, sense the imprint of all who have walked upon it.
Glancing up from the gas pump, I was intrigued by the sight of these retreating storm clouds, artistically arranged, just for my enjoyment, or so it seemed.
Always a weather buff, I used to be quite fond of storms, though sometimes today, they scare me. At different life stages, the same prompts trigger varying emotions, depending, I suppose upon how vulnerable we are feeling.
If they aren’t damaging, I’ve always thought thunderstorms quite fascinating.
This southern view highlighted by artistically sculpted clouds of pink and light bluish gray was calming after a particularly severe storm this summer.
Nature has many ways of showing her two sides, just as we do. Duality seems a requirement of life on earth, for some particularly puzzling reason.
“Cool and Green and Shady“, the song is called. I won’t type the lyrics to avoid the royalty police, but if you haven’t heard the tune, please check it out.
There’s nothing better than relaxing in nature, staring up at blue sky, whether the view is wide and open, or framed by the timbers of a dilapidated building, feathery leaves and spruce branches.
What, more than sky, whether cerulean and smooth, or black and dotted with dainty stars at night, inspires our thought processes, triggers our desire to know more, the realization we will likely never know anything for sure while our feet remain on the ground.
That realization is the beginning of real wisdom.
The muggy June 10, 2020 day turned into a scary evening for travelers dodging branches and homeowners worried about wind damage to buildings and trees, and power outages.
Seldom seen mammatocumulus clouds followed the thunderstorm, as a strange yellow-green and then pink glow bathed the landscape as if a color filter had crossed the sun’s face.
I haven’t heard of any tornadoes but the gust front held tremendous power. Perhaps it was a downburst?
Following are a couple more of the many photos I couldn’t resist snapping to record the rare skyscapes of the evening.
I’m alternately fearful or fascinated by storms. Trees, which I love, suffered significant damage. I had to dodge limbs as I drove home, and many people are still without power 24 hours later.
I was a bit nervous as I took these pictures, as another bank of clouds threatened from the horizon, but I was so in awe of this sight I only see every few years, that I remained outside. Thankfully the cloud bank didn’t turn out to be another set of thunderclouds.
The cooler air the storm left behind made sleeping much more comfortable.
This photo is from about a week or so ago. Driving home between eight and nine pm, I found this cloud formation intriguing. The lovely light dropping over the edge of the curved, dark cloud created an interesting contrast.
Unsettled weather offers one consolation. Skies filled with a variety of cloud formations.
The above photo features the dramatic close to the day that greeted me on my way home from work several evenings previously. The site where is was taken is one of my favorite spots to see the sun sink to the horizon.
Below are two halves of a perfect rainbow that made my morning one day. Spattering raindrops fell from nearly non existent clouds, as the full spectrum half circle appeared in the western sky.
Seldom have I seen rainbows to the west of my location. They predominantly seem to appear in the east, behind a storm that’s moved on.
Whatever the cause of these anomalies, they add fascinating factors to our days during this most sensational season of summer.
Cumulonimbus are simultaneously threatening and lovely. Sunset tints these evening stormclouds pink as they retreat after a week of heavy rains.
We’ve had our share of precipitation and occasional heavy storms this spring. Hopefully the upcoming summer holds more balanced weather.