Stalking the Sunset – Photo: L.Weikel

Quiet Times

Most of the walks Karl and I have taken over the past few days have been in silence. Sometimes that happens because we’ve had an argument and neither one of us wants to speak to the other. Other times, though – the peaceful quiet times – we’re often walking in awed silence, overwhelmed by the cacophony of colors and configurations Nature paints before our eyes.

Tonight was one of those peaceful quiet times.

We both were lucky enough to be ending a day in which we found ourselves lost in our work. Lost in that positive sense of becoming so immersed in what we were doing that hours slipped by without notice. Even better, our enchantment was a result of focusing on matters that foster creative thought, new horizons, and whisper of possible adventures.

And so it was when we pulled our heads from the clouds and looked at each other across the room, with Spartacus expectantly glancing from one to the other of us, that we realized he was jonesing for a walk. What time was it? Suddenly we realized we might miss another sunset if we didn’t drop everything at that very moment and get ourselves outside now.

Photo: L. Weikel

Widdershins

Oh, but when we walked outside, the condition of the western sky defied description. It went without saying that I would try to capture at least some of the meteorological artistry for later, for now, but to do would entail ‘going widdershins.’

Going widdershins simply means walking (or whatever) counterclockwise – not unlike unscrewing a jar. We are admittedly creatures of habit, Karl and I. We mostly walk clockwise. But every once in a while – even energetically – it’s a healthy thing to walk in the opposite direction than we usually do. It gives us an opportunity to let things go, to see our usual route from a different perspective, to loosen things up. It’s a simple part of a healthy energetic practice.

None of those were the foundation of my suggestion we go widdershins tonight, though. No. I suggested it because I knew the sunset wouldn’t wait for us to make it around to my favorite spot for sky snapping. Any chance of capturing even the briefest of breathless moments would have to be deliberately stalked.

So we did. And we were rewarded.

Winter Sunset – Photo: L. Weikel

Hardest Part

The hardest part of our walk this evening was choosing which photos to send to my laptop for inclusion in this post. Sharing tonight’s peaceful quiet time was a balm to my soul. I’m pretty sure Karl feels the same. He didn’t say – but the sunset reflected in his smiling eyes.

(T-296)