SUNDOWN ON CAPE COD -- HUH?

Yes, it's real

Funny how two weeks in the high Alps can make you think of screwy things.  Like for instance, if I told stories about watching sunsets on Cape Cod, would anyone believe me?  I have to admit that I myself was rather surprised to have to believe that there are, in fact, sundowns that can be viewed and enjoyed on Cape Cod.  As a matter of record, I can attest to seeing many Cape Cod sundowns at least as beautiful as the one pictured here.  The earth is a rather challenging place to inhabit, I must say.  Sometimes East is East and West is West, but there are times when you wonder.  Like sundowns on Cape Cod.  Or, and you've heard me say this before, turning toward the Pacific Ocean because that's where the water is in Massachusetts.  That's when it's "U-Turn time" in California.  You have all heard about the sundowns on Manila Bay and on Moana Loa Beach in Honolulu.  I don't want to spoil your life, but the map does very interesting things to your mind when you look these places up.  So don't look them up for sundowns.  Just go and enjoy them.  Like Cape Cod.  Don't sit there trying to figure it out.  Just go and thank God and Mother Nature that they are treating you to something special.

FIRST ONE UP AND LAST TO SLEEP, AND DANGEROUS EVEN THEN

Sunrises and sundowns in the high Alps are something else to Ooohh and Ahhhh about, but in a different way.  There are many aspects to the phenomena there, but the most common one, I think, is the slow unveiling and veiling that takes place every day right before your very eyes.  In the morning the majestic needles of the sky-scraping monsters shed their grey veils first.  Sometimes it is with the arrogance of a femme fatale before a brilliant, fiery, golden orange klieg-light.  Never does the arrogance last long.  Slowly, the demure grey returns and the only driving force of the day takes over to make everything the different shades of ashen grey to which we are all accustomed.  That too is not a permanent state.  Slowly the curvaceous ladies-in-waiting from the early AM begin to get their turn on the ramp.  Their points of beauty start to take on the shimmering and gleam of the departing sun for a swan-song while the morning princesses try vainly to expose what little bit of finery they have in a last-ditch effort to make an impression.  One has to wonder if they will ever learn.
Whether it is over water or over a fluffy bed of lazily wafting fog, the sun pats the crown of the proudest of the proud, the vigilant, ever staunch guardians of the territory that lays at their flank.  It matters not whether the inhabitants on either side are friendly to one another or just downright indifferent.  The Massif is always there.  Dauntless.  Non-negotiating.  Sometimes, like this one, claiming innocent lives for who knows what God.  But the majesty only gets better and the relationship with the lesser creatures takes on an aura of great respect.  That is perhaps why paeans like this one are produced in homage to the creator who gave them their purpose and who maintains them on the job.  Mother Earth and her children need them.  Even if only to appreciate the majesty, the grandeur and the beauty that they bring to our lives.  Last week one of them teamed up with the fog-bank to give us this sign of hope.  Enjoy it.

GET UP EARLY AND GO RAINBOW SURFING IN THE ALPS