Infernally Yours

The sun was just in a cranky mood. It had been a long day, what with the rain and all, and it had spent the entire day trying to fight through the rain clouds. Every time it thought it saw an opening, and tried to provide a bit of warmth and cheer, the rain clouds scuttled back in, thwarting every effort. In the end, it was just one of those days.

At the very end of the day, though, the rain clouds decided to pack it in a bit early (their day had been a darn good one, after all, and they figured they would reward themselves just a bit), leaving the sun just the barest of all opportunities. And it took that… with a vengeance! It was really quite mad at this point and as it slipped below the horizon its full rage could be seen by all. The colors were absolutely amazing and staggering and the rain clouds quickly regretted the decision to block the sun that day.

This image was taken from the top of Sandia Crest in Sandia Mountains in New Mexico. Truly, the entire sunset was beyond compare, and the reds and yellows in it were intense, to say the least. The clouds reflected the dying sun’s light in every direction and for a moment–just a brief moment–this is what it looked like. And before you knew it, the sun slipped fully below the horizon leaving all in darkness.

The sun made a last gasp and without warning dove behind the distant mountain. The world wasn’t quite ready to see it go, but the sun was done for the day and it was time for it to go home. The clouds were caught wholly unprepared and their myriad colors bore witness to their outrage at being left alone so quickly. For after all, the sun was not supposed to go quickly, but rather with plenty of fair warning. The clouds glowered, and vowed to stay lit all night long, if need be, until the sun came back and apologized.

The tree, however, stood fast, for it had suspect that the sun was up to something sneaky; it lost its own color very quickly, welcoming the night with an inky blackness all its own.

And before anyone else could do much of anything about it, darkness claimed them all.

Reflection of Fall, originally uploaded by ifringe.

This particular subject has vexed me for the longest time. It has sat there, taunting me, calling to me, daring me to take a picture of it that looks even somewhat reasonable. Every time I pass by it I know, deep in my bones, that a picture lurks there, but I cannot get it. I go home thinking to myself “what if…what if…”

What is this object? Oddly, it’s a barn. Yes, a barn. And old barn to be sure (and because it is old it has a lot of experience with photographer types. It’s a old wily barn). A barn that sits there and simply refuses to be photographed in any meaningful fashion. The problem with this particular barn is that it is red (mostly), weatherbeaten (a lot) and has a ton of really cool features that ought to make a cool picture.

But Sunday I had a plan. I snuck up on the barn in a roundabout way so it couldn’t see me coming. I crept as quietly as I could, making no sound. And then, I popped up from behind a shrub, focused not on the barn itself, but rather the reflection in its window and grabbed this particular picture.

Sure, you can say that technically I did not actually take a picture of the barn. But, the barn frames out the window and reflection rather nicely, I think, and through the window we see the last vestiges of fall.