SWIFTLY FLOW THE DAYS – RICH PASCHALL

Sunrise, Sunset by Rich Paschall

If you have stopped by SERENDIPITY even just occasionally, you will have noticed a wealth of sunrise and sunset pictures. Marilyn and Garry Armstrong have captured countless images for us and often share some spectacular photo displays. I have even swiped a few over the years to illustrate certain stories and articles. I am about to do it again.

Ogunquit, Maine

You see? When no one was looking, I snuck into the library, borrowed some pictures, and did not tell the librarian. There are so many and I only wanted a few. Do you think they will notice? Perhaps. They have spotted my thievery before. But why should I upload new ones when theirs are so much better?

Rockport, Massachusetts at sunrise

One thing is clear to me after so many years of gazing at the sky. I never get tired of the sunrise and the sunset. No two are alike and many are just spectacular creations of light and color.

Sunrise over the hills, Peacham, Vermont

Sunrise, sunset
Swiftly flow the days
Seedlings turn overnight to sunflowers
Blossoming even as we gaze.

When you get older, you will realize one day that the number of sunrises left for you to see are fewer than the ones you’ve already seen. You understand that missing so many was unfortunate. You should take whatever chances you have to see more of them. In the universe, there may be an endless number, but in our own lives, the number is finite, but unknown.

Sunset in Douglas

Since I am not really a morning person, I am more likely to catch the sunset than the sunrise. I never got tired of walking out of the cargo building at O’Hare to see the sunset over the field. Sometimes a plane would oblige me and take off into the sun. Now we do not go there so I am glad I caught so many last year. I should make a plan to catch more from the nearby park.

Sunset at Block Island

Sunrise, sunset
Swiftly fly the years
One season following another
Laden with happiness and tears

When Marilyn recently posted a gallery of sunset pictures taken by Garry and herself, I thought of a touching scene from Fiddler on the Roof. Late in the first act, Tevye and Golde reflect on the swiftly passing years as they observe the wedding of their oldest child. If you don’t know the song from the award-winning musical, we are happy to share it before another sunset goes by.

See also: “Evening’s Golden Hour,” By Marilyn Armstrong, SERENDIPITY, August 30, 2020.

 

EVENING’S GOLDEN HOUR

Fandango’s Dog Days of August #29

Coming home from Mass General, we drove into the most golden sunset I’ve ever seen. My favorite hours of the day are dawn, just before sunrise when all the birds are singing and you can see the first rays of sun coming over the horizon … and then again twilight and sunset, as the sun sinks down, often leaving some amazing colors behind.

Today, while we were driving home, the sky turned gold. It was something else. The tops of all the winter trees changed color from green to gold. It was remarkable and I don’t think I’ve ever seen that before. It’s difficult taking pictures in the car. Windshield and all that, not to mention the annoying habit the dashboard has of popping up. Garry finally pulled off the road, grabbed his camera and took a few more.

#FDDA – Dog Days of August

DUSK AS DAY ENDS – Marilyn Armstrong

A Photo a Week Challenge: Dusk


People have often asked what the difference is betweeen sunrise and sunset, between dawn and dusk. Really, in practical terms, the difference is which part of the sky is involved. East is sunrise, west is sunset. But they feel different. For whatever reason, I always know which are which, maybe because i remember when the pictures were taken. These are all dusk or sunsets, taken in Arizona, Connecticut, Maine, Massachusetts, and New York.

OFF COURSE – JUDY DKYSTRA-BROWN – REBLOG

OFF COURSE

For those who cannot fathom the changes time has wrought,
tomorrow will be better, or perhaps it will be not.
Those who have championed progress, thinking it is for our betterment
might come at last to fathom that it’s been to our fetterment.
Why do we study science and waste our time at college
only to find out that we’ve been ruined by our knowledge?

We have been so quickly smart and sadly too late wise.
All our grand inventions seem to lead to our demise.
Can we make things better? Can we veer off to the light?
Or will we blindly keep our course, attracted to the night?


Follow this link to see the original on  LIFELESSONS

ONE MORE SUNSET #16 – Marilyn Armstrong

ONE MORE SUNSET

Yes, I know my numbers are out of order. That’s the price we pay for trying to work with material coming from the other side of the world. Posts show up late, sometimes a couple of days late and since I can’t control when they wind up in my “inbox,” I just do the best I can. Hope no one minds!

The west-facing road that passes our house and travels from route 146A all the way to Johnston, Rhode Island, a big area for antiques. I don’t go there because I’ll buy something. I don’t go to antique stores, book stores, or art galleries. These are places I find irresistible. Not only do I not have extra money to spend, but I need more antiques like I need a hole in my head.

Along this little road are at least three small towns, all located on a waterway. There is a lot of water around here and it all flows south towards the Atlantic Ocean and exits via Narragansett Bay. Which is, of course,  the outlet of the Blackstone River and almost every other river and stream in the Blackstone Valley.

On the road to Rhode Island

In case you didn’t know, the Blackstone Valley runs through two states. It begins at the head of the Worcester Hills in Massachusetts and continues through Rhode Island until it runs into the ocean. Along its route are more rivers most of which are tributaries of the Blackstone. Also interesting are the ponds, lakes, streams, and rivulets, often unnamed. Just more water.

Route 98 runs through inhabited areas. Lots of small farms and tiny groups of homes too small for maps to name them as a village, though most places have a name. A few have no names. They are simply a crossroads with a shop and a couple of houses. But of course, we have towns that look like that too.

SQUARED UP ARIZONA SUNSETS #12 – Marilyn Armstrong

ON THE SQUARE – ARIZONA SUNSETS #12 – Marilyn Armstrong

I was amazed at the sunsets everywhere in Arizona. Just when I thought they couldn’t be better, the next night would be even more brilliant.

And so it went from one night to the next night, glorious sunset after sunset. In the mountains and even from city streets. Some nights, the sunset was so red it turned the mountains red, too.

Sunset – Phoenix
In the Phoenix mountains
More from the Phoenix Mountains
Sunset reflected on the Superstition Mountains

PINK SAILS IN THE SUNSET #9 – GARRY ARMSTRONG

Pink Sails in the Sunset – Garry Armstrong

It was an amazing sunset. It wasn’t just the western side of the sky. It was the entire sky in all four directions. There was the purple and pink end and the orange and gold section and some other almost indescribable colors — red, maroon, violet, yellow. What a display!

Both Marilyn and I were taking pictures. The sky was really awesome, as in able to strike awe in all who saw it.

The purple and pink side of the sunset sky

SUNSET AT THE END OF THE ROAD #8 – Marilyn Armstrong

Sunset at road’s end – Marilyn Armstrong

Another picture from the series on our street during that sunset in February. I love the colors in this one. The sky was bright blue, the clouds were purple and the naked trees made their own designs again the backlit sky.

Coming home at sunset

HOMEWARD BOUND #7 – Marilyn Armstrong

HOMEWARD BOUND INTO THE SUNSET – BECKY B’S JANUARY SQUARES

It was just another day coming home from the doctor. Our house is due west from the doctor’s office. I knew this because the sun was in our eyes all the way home. I thought it would be dark when we got back, but there was absolutely no traffic and we swept home at a brisk pace.

Which meant there were a few pictures to take on the way. Not as glorious as the last ones, but still, very pretty (and entirely square) sunset pictures.

About a quarter of a mile from home, heading west
About 4:30 in the afternoon in January

This was the first time I’ve used my new Panasonic camera since I got it a couple of months ago. I’m not really used to it yet, but it does seem to do a pretty nice job especially considering it was quite dark by this time.

WINTER TREES TURN GOLD AT SUNSET #6 – Marilyn Armstrong

WHEN THE SUN TURNS THE WINTER TREES TO GOLD – Marilyn Armstrong

 

When the setting sun turns the trees to gold — in February!

I’ve never seen this before or since. It was February. The trees were bare and we were coming home from Connecticut. The sky was dark with clouds, but there was a shaft of sunlight and it lit up the trees and turned them to gold. I took pictures and I’m glad I did. I’ve never seen this happen before or since.

COMING HOME SUNSET #3 – Marilyn Armstrong

IT WAS A MAGICAL DRIVE DOWN ALDRICH STREET

It was just an ordinary day, driving home.

“Pull over!” I said.

“What?”

“Pull over! The sun is about to do something really spectacular and I have a camera!”

Sometimes, if you are in the right place at the right time and just happen to have a camera, some amazing pictures show up. This was our own street, too. We weren’t on vacation and I wasn’t looking for pictures, but I always have a camera. This is why.

Coming home … about 300 yards down the road from the house. Facing due west.

SQUARE AUTUMN DAWN OVER THE TEEPEE #2 – Marilyn Armstrong

Second square, the last light of Autumn sunset

And so another year has begun. Another decade. The last one was insane. I wonder how bad or great the next ten years will be. I’m torn between a faint hope that things have to get better and a sickening fear that it will never get better. Ever again. That the days we remember are gone and won’t come back.

But until I see it getting worse, I’m going to pretend that it’s about to improve. Because I need hope. Don’t we all?

From the rear of the teepee, the day is ending in mid-Autumn.