The weekly photo challenge this week is “The Sky.” The Sky…oh, my goodness, the possibilities. The Sky is so much a part of my consciousness, such a deep and meaningful part of me, especially the night sky. But I don’t photograph the night sky. So I chose a photo that I took last summer in Phoenix, Arizona. It was a stunning sunset, the likes of which I cannot see from where I live.
The moment was breathless and timeless. I’d driven into the mountains just north of Scottsdale, feeling drawn to them for reasons I could not articulate. I was lucky enough to find a spot to park the car and walk into the desert. Wandering through the waning day, I was mesmerized by the desert floor – there were countless stones of all sizes, shapes and colors littering the dry earth. The sounds of the stones striking each other as I walked was at times metallic, other times glass-like. It was like music. I found a large boulder on which to sit and take in the sunset below me, and shortly I was joined by a small, curious bird. He landed next to me, studied me for a few moments, then hopped onto a nearby tree branch. I watched, breathless, as the setting sun turned the mountains nearby from brown to orange to red – at which time I turned toward the sunset to take it in. The word “majestic” doesn’t quite do it justice. Soon after I snapped this photo, I turned back to the mountains to watch as they faded to purple. Then the stars came out.
And then I went back to my hotel, cherishing the soul-changing silence that I knew would stay with me, and be there whenever I needed it.