Sky-fire sunset overwhelms camera phone

I was taking my dog out for a walk in the crisp air the other night, when this last bit of sunset exploded overhead.  My phone camera could barely contain itself with excitement  -- not that he knew what to do with color this bright and bold swashbuckled across the sky.

Sun settles,but Bolivar bay stays awake

The Gulf sun slips slowly into the bay behind Bolivar Peninsula as a boater silently slides his craft into the dock.  The salty smell of the breeze and its icy effect on our skins gave a sense that the sun had run its daily course, but the bay was not ready to sleep.

The glittering Bolivar sunset

Linda and I took a drive down to the Bolivar Peninsula the other day and just drove along the beach to enjoy the cool, breezy sunset.   The beach did not disappoint.  I donned its most glittering, glistening outfit for the occasion.

Sky fire

This is another view from that fiery sunset the other day as we were driving home. The sun's rays were skimming the bottoms of the cloud puffs -- just one last show of power by Sir Helios.

Stretching time

Stretching out that last hour of daylight driving, travelers push in to the heart of the sunset down I-10 near Lake Charles, LA.

Cloud-spangled sky

Nighttime and daytime often just pass the torch with a slow shift of color. However, sometimes, like this night, daytime lingers a while longer and makes one last cloud-spangled splash across the sky.

Do clouds play when the sun allows?

Is it possible that clouds, when the winds are right and sun is in a playful mood, invent games to fill the sky with spins and traces?

These are the kind of cool, yet sun-laced, days when it just doesn't feel adequate to be mere puffy cotton balls.

Do they play together, lightly laying air-light filaments over each other's nuanced sketches? Slowly, layer upon layer, do they trace these hints of gossamer threads sewn into weightless linens?

In the end, some emotion, some feeling, not before known, whispers its new, worldly beginnings.

We can watch, I suppose, but never really know the brio these venturers brush upon the sky. Unless, we let go the cares which ground us, and become volants ourselves -- time-free and earth- unbound.