Sunset of Fire – Blaze Sky Blaze

Animate us with your feverish good-night. Saturate us in your fiery exit.

It’s not often I see a red sunset. I see pink ones, yellow ones, pale orange with purple swirl ones, and aqua blue hues with hot pink center ones. Lovely pale palettes of majesty. All sorts of gorgeous colors, but nothing ablaze, not until last night. And maybe? I just haven’t been paying attention.

I’ve noticed it’s rare for me to watch a sunset, or better yet take the time to watch a sunset. I’m usually driving home from work, doing weekend laundry, making or eating dinner, and every other thing that snatches our sunset watching time. Besides, I live in an urban area. It’s hard to see the sun setting through the new housing additions, and shopping centers.

But last night, we happened to be at the right place, at the right time, with the right view.

A park.

The sun’s timing was impeccable. It was just as we were getting into the car, I saw a red glow from the hillside. I thought…… why don’t we just walk up there and see. I had practiced silhouette portraits earlier with the family I was taking pictures for; the reason for being at the park that time of day. It’s something I have admired on other photo blogs and wanted to try to for myself.

In the midst of a red sunset, I was in photography heaven. It’s not often I have a crimson glow, my new camera, and my teenage model daughter with me.

These pictures are unedited. I did not add my watermark, nor alter them in any way. It is exactly as I saw it through the lens.

Blaze sky, blaze.

What a way to end the day. Thank-you God for such a stunning scene. And my teen?

Was she adrift in the moment of her silhouette debut? Soaking up the rays as one with nature? Ummm, not so much. But, maybe she lit a text or two ablaze. Heh.

Happy Monday of the Thanksgiving week!

Time goes on

Two years go by, but I’ll never forget. I still remember like it was yesterday. The day we held your service and placed you to rest.

I look back on this day, as if it were crystallized in my mind. The hot August sun. The crispy graveyard grass. The beautiful spray of flowers across your handsome gray casket. I try to be strong for my mom. I know she needs me, but when Charley Pride’s, I’ll fly away, plays at the service. I lose my composure a bit. I have memories of riding in your big yellow Lincoln town car listening to Charley Pride sing, Mountain of Love. The first song I ever heard by him. It was one of those I could hear over and over, as you did when you were seven. You really got a kick out of that. To hear his voice again brought such happy tears, and sad ones.

You flew away – oh glory – to a home on God’s celestial shore. A piece of my heart flew with you – is still with you. Always.

The comfort of today is that you are free, just as your beautiful gravestone says.


    I’m free
    Be not burdened with times of sorrow
    I wish you the sunshine of tomorrow.
    My life’s been full, I’ve savored much,
    good friends, good times,
    a loved ones touch.
    Lift up your hearts and share with me,
    God wanted me now;
    He set me free.

Father, confidant, supporter, encourager, most patient man in the world – stepfather and treasure. Times goes on….but your memories are alive in my beating heart.

I see the sun and you are in it.

Sighting Home

**photos by Angelia

One-hundred and seventy-eight miles Northeast of my residence, lies a small Oklahoma town. Outside of town is an even smaller slice of country life; a blip on the map. Therein lies my home of childhood, at least most of childhood. It is different now. The trees are taller, the windows more obscure behind the smoky glaze of age.

Knickknacks have come and gone, although some still stand their place of posturing on the shelf. The carpet replaced; from laminate, to shag, to wood. Bathroom faucets spray from an unfiltered spout in a rough sideways fountain. The kitchen window no longer overlooks an in-ground pool. The pool long filled in. The back-yard tree canopies the view, casting over the window, a green filtering sunlight shade of leaves.

The small shrub plants a foot tall are now tree size.

The country made Bees love them.

Such beauty at work.

In harmony.

In peace.

Maybe they see you, and wonder your purpose as well.

A happy cottage beckons it’s promise of playful cheer.

Spring flowers long past their bloom bake in the sun, awaiting the turn of season.

Three hours of driving to sight home. Three hours to revel in the brisk nature, city sidewalks just don’t encapsulate. Sentiment, and wonder alive through the lens.

Joie de vivre cradled in a ripened era.

I, literally, could not put my camera away.

Home, not just from the dusty gravel road, but from the 55mm lens of grown-up aspect.