I love the light this time of year.
The angle of the sun is so long that it casts warm, gorgeous gold on even the coldest afternoons which subsides to fiery orange, smoldering red, and then cool silhouettes of purple and black. Even on cloudy days, the light finds a way-- igniting billowing stacks of cumuli in a last blaze before darkness, or casting dark pink rays up and under the somber gray dawn.
It was just such a light I saw this morning, painting the buff underwings of a pair of hawks rose and coral as they circled on the warming air.
The angle of the sun is so long that it casts warm, gorgeous gold on even the coldest afternoons which subsides to fiery orange, smoldering red, and then cool silhouettes of purple and black. Even on cloudy days, the light finds a way-- igniting billowing stacks of cumuli in a last blaze before darkness, or casting dark pink rays up and under the somber gray dawn.
It was just such a light I saw this morning, painting the buff underwings of a pair of hawks rose and coral as they circled on the warming air.
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