Each pine at dusk lodges the bird of its voice perpendicular and still the forest indifferent to history tearless as stone repeats in tremulous excitement the ancient story of the sun going down. John Berger from “And Our Faces, My Heart, Brief as Photos” New Yorker – Postscript: John Berger, 1926 – 2017: http://www.newyorker.com/culture/culture-desk/postscript-john-berger-1926-2017
New Year’s Eve: the final sunset of 2016
My oldest and I went to a location we hadn’t been to before to play Pokémon. We were able to catch the sunset which set about 4:49 PM.
Happy Winter Solstice! The reason for the season. The Winter Solstice heralds the symbolic rebirth of the Sun, the lengthening of days, and the promise of renewed life. I would have liked to appreciate the winter solstice sunset from somewhere cold and with snow. But here in Pacifica it was a warm 61 degrees and […]