After a storm when the last embers of the sun win through, they bless the south with a little rainbow smile. That's all, but more than enough.
The following evening promises to be even more glorious. Just before the rising moon is veiled by misty cloud, it seems to indicate the enchantment that's about to begin.
Such fleeting moments are breathtaking. They make you feel small but privileged, and give you wonderful, warm feelings of hope.
When you capture such magic, you feel rich. You know that this is the first and the last time you will ever directly see this. For if you are fascinated by such sights, then you know that they are always totally unique.
Each beautiful, ephemeral poem has a beginning and an end. It is complete and moving in every way.
To look across and into the depths of such beauty is almost like flying. A dream flight between drifting clouds warmly lit by the sinking sun, and mountains softly blanketed in mist.
Slowly, blissfully we glide on in this paradise, above cool, Alpine peaks towards warm heavens of sunlit caverns.
To our left the sky is a deeper, cool azure to contrast with the curling cloud lit up like winter fires that one might gaze dreamily into. Polaric blue and orange determined by the truth of the moment.
Then the ragged, raging cumulous like a great, doomed dragon destined to die.
Or to be metamorphosed into stretched arms of giants, their hands groping to reach each other, arching across the heavens as if to bid a last farewell.
The third and final moment shows the uniqueness of each day's end. The low, humid, steel-blue cloud about to shroud the sun denying it the right to paint the sky crimson.
Some distant cumulous briefly spared, reflects a little warmth, whilst to its left two snarling beasts rabidly tear at each other's muzzle.
The low cloud has won this third day, yet like windswept trees of African Savanna, others grace the sky.
Three successive evenings in the mountains early in September.
Part of what I love so much here. A tonic that puts all concerns in a truer perspective, from celestial stars to twinkling lights of tiny villages in the valleys below. Riches of the mountains that one finds where rainbows smile.
Photos and text © Mirino. September, 2014
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