Tag Archives: sunset

Sunrise, sunset

I decided to try something this summer-just-passed and I have been pretty good at keeping with it. I took note, via the weather app on my iPhone, of the time of each days’ sunrise and especially, each sunset.

I was inspired by my experiences in Maui, the two times I have visited. I loved how people rang dinner bells on their back porches and local restaurant personnel would all stop and invite you to notice, not time-to-eat, but rather, sunset as it occurred. There it was, the burning sun, hanging over, then sinking into the ocean, coloring the sky. The islanders invited us all to pause and observe the moment, the beauty of the setting, paying homage to the end of another day.

Why can’t we do that here, I wondered?

flag at blue hour

I was at a party and stepped outside to take a call, just a few minutes past sunset. The blue hour is intoxicating. Plus, my mom is thrilled by any photos of flags. This is at Tara’s house, so she’ll be proud of her granddaughter. :)

So I have been doing it. Originally I meant to try through the summer, but I’ve continued. I have enjoyed many sunrises (at least 50%, I’d say), and I can watch them from the comfort of my bed through the wide-open window, if I desire. But the sun-settings, I’m seeing almost all of them, at the very least 4-5 days out of each week. I just watch as the light of day fades into night, the light sky turning blanket-blue, a quick azure, then indigo. I try to be outside somewhere, watching, noting the passage.

It has made me so much more aware of the passing time and how I spend the hours I have. And let me just tell you, so much of what passes between the bookends of a sunrise and a sunset daily, even in the mundane rituals and running of everyday life, there is great treasure. It waits to be found and if we’re wise, we’ll observe these blessed two moments daily, first with anticipation, then thanksgiving and gratefulness.

Morning Sunrise Prayer: Wow, Lord, the sun! I am going to arise and shine because Your glory is risen upon me! Give me eyes to see all the things You see. I am so thankful for these new mercies and another day You have entrusted to me. I wonder what will become of these next day-lit hours? “Christ in me, live this day.”

Evening Sunset Prayer: What a day. Thank You for [list it all here – everything you can recall], and I trust You to redeem and restore [anything broken or marred; may as well list it, He knows]. I am so grateful to have had this day, knowing You were with me all the way. Now I rest, and let You tend to what needs tending…

Yep. I am STILL learning that last part!

10.31.15  Sun-up, 7:28 am; sunset, 5:59 pm, Denver time. Just in case you wanted to know!

Remember to set your clocks back tonight. You get an extra hour! :)

The days grow short

A meandering post…

The grandbebes.

Oh, it’s a long long while
From May to December
But the days grow short
When you reach September

I refused to loosen my grasp on summer, as if it would cause it to remain. And we have had an unusually warm and dry Autumn, temperatures soaring daily in bright sunshiny days regularly, so it has been easy to pretend.

Hunter catches and runs in the touchdown!

But the colorful-Colorado drive to the mountains a couple of weeks ago, yellow and orang-ish Aspen leaves tumbling and floating down the higher in elevation we got, the season changed for me. *snap* Just like that. I guess it really is fall.

When the autumn weather
Turns leaves to flame
One hasn’t got time
For the waiting game

sept 30 near allenspark, co
On our way to the top. Near Allenspark.

Oh, the days dwindle down
To a precious few…

Our niece Lori”s place in Estes Park. She always has a room for us.

This Season

The days are shorter, the evenings are cooler. The grass is greener, enjoying the break from relentless summer heat. The garden has gone wild, producing madly, somehow knowing the end is in sight. Cool-season crops, planted in August’s warmth, are deliriously happy this year. Radishes, lettuce, kale and arugula can be seen dancing in the moonlight.  With a little love and occasional cover, who knows? Maybe we’ll harvest for the Thanksgiving table? It doesn’t have to be the end {yet} of the gardening year. But it’s close.

I brought in a shopping bag full of tomatoes, zucchini and peppers three days ago…


Guess what?

If I were a garden vegetable, I would be a tomato plant. Of course I would. Search this blog for the word, “tomato” and you’ll see why.  The homegrown tomato is my all-time favorite, for no flavor like them can be purchased anywhere. They arrive all spring green and exciting on bushy-leafed plants and then become blood-red and juicier over time. Like we do.

Aging actually defines and colors who we are, what we bring to the proverbial table.

But the September and October tomato isn’t as flashy as the summer tomato.  The fruit is smaller, even as the numbers increase. Nearing the end, the tomato creates a veritable flurry of flowers-to-fruit, propagating itself for posterity. It’s like it is saying, “I won’t be around forever, these days are getting awfully short and I’m losing sunlight, but I’ll make sure to leave you with plenty to enjoy and seed for the future.”

It isn’t about being maudlin or morose, but I know things now I didn’t know 20 years ago. I know “the days dwindle down.” I recall my irrepressible youth. I couldn’t see the end of the blue-sky, sunny-summer days ahead and even though we always heard “We’re never promised tomorrow,” being young also makes you certain tomorrow will always be there.

Like my annual tomato plants, we have a certain number of days, the seasons set and measurable with some variations.  We have a limited supply of sunshine and rain. And then our days are gone. And we hope we will have produced life-giving, good fruit and plenty of it and have left extraordinary children and grandchildren to make the world better for the future.

I’m somewhere past the middle

Where am I now, September? October? I’m somewhere in the middle, over half my days are gone. I need to kick it into high gear, for goodness’ sake! :)

It has taken me the wisdom of the years I have lived to understand so many things and, wow, I have much left to learn. But so many seasons have come and gone and the people planted in my life’s garden to begin with are the ones still to tend, you know? Many wonderful friends and acquaintances pass by and we enjoy the love, the meals, but my people remain for me. Along the way, every possible distraction, possible (probable) offenses and seductive “once-in-a-lifetime” opportunities beckon. New things and flashy adventure present and they are wonderful, but the home garden is where the best nourishment remains even as, and especially as, the days grow shorter.

Over half my days are gone, but the ones that remain are bushel-baskets full of sage advice, wisdom, love (oh the love), nurture, insight into the future (I’m further along – I can see things ahead you may not yet have seen, my sweets); there’s discernment I can share and prophetic words I am anointed to speak and though the fruit on my vines is not the flashy, all-knowing fruit of my youth, I bear prolifically now, enough for my household and those who need refuge. Come one, come all…

So spend your days wisely, the endless supply you seem to have now.  And feast on the days your most important people have to spend on you, receiving the grace of years humbly and gratefully.

And these few precious days
I’ll spend with you
These precious days
I’ll spend with you

My favorite version of September Song

(lyrics above) by Willie Nelson. Naturally!