September is mostly smiles. August heat gets swept out finally by northwest winds that sweep over the prairie like an unseen reprieve. The slight chill is like a drink of cold water, a reminder of flourishing fall colors to come.
In September of 2006, twenty years ago, I went out hunting a great sunset. I didn't do that often--I don't know why, but I'd guess it was because I fell in love with dawn and that was enough.
These pictures come out of one shoot, one position with the camera, and the drama--all of the drama, really--is in the sky. It doesn't threaten; it's colors are just worth trying to get in the camera.
Shooting a day's wild beginnings, like its wild ends, isn't easy. It's tough to gather all that beauty into an ordinary lens, as you can see I discovered. The contrasts are pretty much uncontrollable. But I tried.
Same night, same place, same shot--except this one is cropped so that much of that clear sky is gone. What's left is the drama.
Same sunset, different character, this one shot through a tree. Twenty years ago I was learning things about beauty, and it was a great joy.
This may well be my very first burning bush. I've got dozens. Moses--yes, Moses--once stood right here. If you compare this one to the one up top, what's changed is clouds. It's just amazing how much they change in a few seconds.
None of them got anywhere near the beauty I stole them from, but all of them have elegance anyway. There are maybe ten more in the folder from that night, all of them knock-offs of the ones I've included here.
I was out for a half hour, west of town about ten miles, in front of a convenient bush to shoot through. I got back to town, put the car in the garage, and told myself I didn't get the trophy shot, but neither did I come home empty-handed.
For that, twenty years ago and once again this morning, I'm thankful.
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