Dusky Haze

Colors in the garden are so surreal when the sun rides low on the western horizon. Dusk is the most magical time to wander amidst the flowers. Each blossom seems to glow as if it were lit from within. The hues witnessed in the soft changing light are far more beautiful than the same flowers looked just an hour earlier.

Over the years, I have wasted countless rolls of film attempting to record the moments. Most likely one needs a special lense to accomplish this feat. It seems so bright to the human eye, yet the camera is incapable of the same sight. Makes one sad that the camera has missed it and the mystical evening garden cannot be shared unless you are lucky enough to be physically in the scene.

Occasionally, there was one frame that rendered a murky, yet captivating frozen moment like the one above. It is more like a painting than a photograph with nary a flower to be found. I highly doubt this is what my naked saw when the scene was shot. Photos are wonderful, but they lack the depth of reality in so many ways.

Having been transplanted from the north to the south, I am amazed to find that there are only seconds of dusk 1000 miles lower. Where does it go too? The sun hits the far horizon at the same time of day, yet it is dark within minutes. Pitch black here and in the same moment so far to the north people are still mowing their grass and enjoying the cooler time of day to waltz about the yard. Dark descends differently the farther you travel away from the North Pole.