I’ve been thinking a lot about sunsets lately. Partly this is because it’s October in Illinois and the late afternoon sun these days illuminates the grass and trees in a way that just can’t be described in words. I’m not even close to enough of a traveler or scientist to suggest we’re in any way close to unique, but every year around this time I find myself outside around four o’clock and realize that whatever is happening in the solar system has positioned everything just so that I can’t help but take all the pictures and then realize no machine will ever do justice to what the human eye can experience.
It’s not even the changing leaves, which look majestic on their own any time the sun is out. It’s the way the sun lights the green grass and even the sidewalk and blacktop. Just the angle and the shadows and everything … it really is silly to try to throw any more words at the wall and hope something effectively evocative emerges. Especially since late afternoon isn’t the same as sunset, which is much more easy to appreciate on my schedule. God bless all the morning commuters who take in the sunrise — especially here on the west side of Lake Michigan — but every morning I am fighting my alarm clock for just a few more moments of serenity even as the throng of children decide to have tickle fights immediately outside my bedroom door, which I suppose is at least partially my fault for purchasing a house with a floor plan that puts the breakfast cereal right next to the sleeping chamber.
But another reason I’ve been thinking about sunsets of late is I just spent a considerable about of free time going through thousands of photos stored on my computer in an attempt to sort by the people pictured, and in so doing realized just how many times I’ve decided to try to capture a sunset with a digital lens. Some of these have been (pardon my modesty) smashing successes, in a few cases looking even better on a screen than they did in real life. Other attempts were vast disappointments, with technology wholly incapable of adequately capturing the brilliance of nature. And, well, a lot in the middle. And so it goes.
The thing about sunsets and photography is we tend to take so many photos of the impressive ones because they’re not a daily occurrence. Sifting through about 12,000 photos in the course of a few weeks can throw off perception on all sorts of things —although I really do think we spent north of 416 hours at the Little League complex this spring — but the reality is we only see these magical moments if we’re in the right place at the right time. Sometimes it’s as simple as stepping out into the front yard. More commonly (at least based on my own digital depository) it’s a matter of being somewhere less familiar: vacation, family visit, business trip, camping with Cub Scouts or even out at a nearby park at an unusual hour.
As such, these pictures bring back not just memories of the stunning sky, but the sequence of events that led to being present in those moments. They are not always happy occurrences: one of my favorite sunset photos was taken several hours after attending a funeral for someone gone far too soon, and I recall thinking snapping pictures would somehow redeem the day in a cosmic fashion, but mostly ended up feeling small and insignificant. The vast majority of recollections are positive, but a melancholy memory is a reminder than a bit of natural splendor has no inherent curative properties. The human mind is endlessly complex, end sometimes the eye can behold beauty without it registering as significant.
All that said, sunsets are pretty and I like to look at them. The bulk of my photography involves my kids or other family members, and although I just attempted to demonstrate how the significance of a particular landscape photo is deeper than its surface appearance, that doesn’t take away from how much easier it is to appreciate an image that doesn’t require any backstory.
Kids’ first visit to the world’s greatest ballpark and the sky put on a show.
God willing some of my favorite pictures will outlast me by a good while, and it’s quite all right if some future descendant happens upon a sunset shot and can’t exactly determine the time or the place to say nothing of the thoughts in my brain when I snapped the shutter. There was something beautiful outside myself and a desire to remember it, to share it with others and in a weird way to express gratitude by feebly trying to use technology to trap nature. Mostly I’m just thankful I have Apple and Canon to help in this quest, because I simply don’t have the time, let alone the skills, to prop up a canvas and bust out the oils.
And though I might have some favorites now, every day brings the potential for a new champion. That few actually offer up contenders is part of the joy. And even should I never see another, I certainly haven’t been cheated.
Only one of them came with me to see this one. He was not disappointed.