677
I don’t know why it started, really.
But over the years it’s become my evening ritual, shooting sunsets in Seattle
over those majestic Olympic Mountains.
There’s a wildness to the skies:
clouds leap-frogging, or skies playing chess with floating pieces of clouds,
or jellyfish clouds floating in alpenglow light, signaling night.
More than a ritual, sunsets are my evening prayer: thankful for this day, grateful for the next.
Praise God from whom all sunsets flow…
The sun nudges north, day by day, as I track my life in these seasons of sunsets:
those long dark nights of questioning and loss,
these bright summer days of light and life, at last.
At last. 
