As I step outside to fulfill a promise I made to myself, to see the sunrise as often as possible, the barely perceptible pink glow of dawn reminds me of the Sun's last act. Less than 12 hours ago, a cold wind blew across an amphitheater raised from an ancient sea and carved by the millennial knife of flowing water. The wind spread a thin blanket of clouds eastward, a blanket that would soon smother the Sun, and then dash the hopes of any other stars making their appearance. But, before the wind was victorious, the Sun spread one last whisper of color across land and sky... Photographed March 2022.
A cactus flower basks atop the Cathedral Rock trail in Sedona, Arizona. Photographed May 2020.
I had the pleasure of watching three sunsets in Sedona, and each time I was surprised by the evolution of colors long after the Sun had disappeared below the horizon. I was convinced that this first sunset, atop Cathedral Rock, would be a "dud" as the cloud cover to the west was too thick... But then, the sky lit up, and more than ten minutes after "official" sunset, this happened. It was the best gift for my tired eyes, and I stayed in this spot long after the light had faded. Photographed May 2020
