November sunset

I have amazing city views from my office window and last night I got to watch a captivating sunset. As the sun was going down, I scribbled the following description in purple pen…

The sun is descending from the heavens on a zigzag cloud stairway. On the far side of the clouds, its orange intensity burns incandescent through the soft web of clouds shrouding it as it drifts slowly downwards from its vantage point high up above the city.

The brightness points upwards, casting light on the bottom of the clouds and shooting reflective rays into the still light sky. It emphasises wispy clouds detaching themselves from the security of the mother clouds and gives them a golden hue.

Downwards it emits a pearly coral red into the smog lying on the horizon. The coloured circle peeps from below a cloud before it succumbs to the polluted horizon.

The sky is no longer vibrant with life, but dulls into the pallid deathliness of day before night. The zigzag cloud stairway to the sky hasn’t moved.

This post is different to my normal blog style, so this is where I guess I should make mention of the past six months without new blog posts. It’s not for lack of topics, because we all know that when you are discovering a new city in a different country there are always lots of interesting observations. I’ve been kept occupied making a home with mi novio, finding my way around Bogota and getting crafty, but I’ll be back again soon on the blog!



Yeah, I piked on the sunset

I spent the day at Arches National Park near Moab, Utah hiking with Brian who I’d met at the campsite.

Brian is one of those people whose passion is hiking and who is also very enthusiastic about photography. He is so keen he got up at 4:45am to capture the sunrise at Mesa Arch in Canyonlands National Park before breakfast.

Whilst we started our day at Arches fairly late with our first hike at 11:30am, I just couldn’t make the sunset at Delicate Arch that Brian was so keen to capture. I know that I need to take the time descriptions on the trail information with a big flake of Murray River Pink Salt, but I wasn’t keen to come back down the moderate-strenuous trail in the dark when I’d already walked about 15km.

So I elected to stay in the car for the 2 and half hours it took for Brian to get there, watch the sun set and get back. Sounds kind of boring, but it gave me time to plan the next few stops on my road trip, and you know, the sun sets every day.