Sunset, moonrise, and alpenglow

Back in the summer of 1980, P and I went to Oregon to visit his brother and sister-in-law. We took several day trips with them, including a drive to one of the state's rocky beaches in the south. We stayed for the sunset there, and scores of other folks sat on the rocks or stood on the shore watching as the sun set. The only sound was that of the waters of the Pacific. And as "the last lights off the black West went," the people dispersed in utter silence.

Another time P and I were driving back on US 64 from Cimarron after an evening of high-school basketball. The moon was rising over the plains, and the conditions that night made the moon appear red. We pulled over to watch. As we stood on the side of the road, other cars pulled over, and the occupants got out to watch. No one spoke or exclaimed.

The afternoon of New Year's Day, Michele and I took our cameras to the Anderson Overlook. It had snowed on the Sangre de Cristo Mountains, and alpenglow was the draw for us. As we stood taking photographs, about six other carloads of folks stopped, and they took pictures too, or just stood looking at the spectacular view.

Here are some of my images. Click to enlarge.

I really like this one.

I cherish these times when I and people I love and perfect strangers stand together in silence to appreciate the beauty around us.