There are two times each day where you can not only feel the stillness of the day, but you can hear it and smell it, too…it’s just as the sun is rising and just as it’s setting. I’m not sure what the actual natural phenomenon is, but if I don’t move and if I pay attention closely, I notice that not only is the air still, but it smells sweet and fresh. If it’s been windy, the wind almost completely dies and there’s a sort of quiet patience of what’s to come. And then with a sort of giddy expectation, the sky fills with brilliant pinks, oranges and purples. And no matter if it’s a sunrise, or a sunset, there are times that the brilliance it conjures up is practically otherworldly. It’s in this moment that sharing them makes life that much sweeter.
Sunshine’s healing nature
It’s been a little more than a week since my leg first became infected. I’ve been riding my mountain bike daily for the past four days. I’m not sure if it’s making things any better, but I do know how good I feel when I can ride even for a short while. Being outside and in nature bathed in sunlight does something for my soul…so, I’m going to say that yes, things are better…and then cross my fingers just in case.
We’ve been blessed so far in March, to not have to endure such nasty winds as we had been during February. So each time I’ve ridden out to the neighborhood lake, I’ve been treated with a brilliant sunset, mirroring off the almost still lake. The following photos are my rendition of a time-lapse of the setting sun a couple of days ago.
Those last few moments in time teetering on the edge between day and night…it’s in those moments that I feel most alive and yet completely insignificant.