There’s something about winter that makes me want to paint night scenes. Probably because in the northern hemisphere there is more darkness this time of year. Night can be magical and mysterious, which is what I’m trying to convey in this painting with a dramatic sky and a full moon shining through the clouds. “Creatures” tend to become more active at night, though in the dead of winter, I’m not so sure. I bet most sensible animals slow their heart rate down and buckle down until warmer times. I like to think of ourselves as slowing down too, to take a breath and look around? Nah, of course not.
Well, the sun has set on our 5-day Into the Sun blog series. Thank you, thank you.
It has actually been more than 5 days; I have skipped some days and the reasons vary – rain, laziness, too much work at work. But, when I did write, I found this little exercise very refreshing. It has helped me use a different part of my brain (or use the brain differently) – that is, the act of writing creatively. And, it has definitely helped me to notice and celebrate the sun during this season of change. However, no matter how mindful we try to be; it is inevitable that we get swept away by a wave of confusion, anxiety, and haste. Maybe this wave is a byproduct of the society that we’ve created, I don’t know. But, if we can bring ourselves back to noticing things and get out of the funk every now and then – bravo!
Lastly, I leave you with some fun facts about the sun (from https://space-facts.com/the-sun/). Cheers!
- The sun is not a perfect sphere. It is imperfect by just 10km between the poles and the equator.
- The sun is a yellow dwarf star (main-sequence G2V star).
- The sun is 4.6 billion years young.
- The sun is 70% Hydrogen, 28% Helium, and 2% other stuff.
- Our planet can fit inside the sun a million times.
Hopefully, you are inspired to learn more about the sun or just to look up once in a while.
Hello, again. If you recall, in the initial “Into the Sun” post I pledged to be more aware of the sun (for 5 days, anyway). And, so far I have done nothing, but shower that big shining ball with praise – the star of aesthetics, the giver of life, yada yada…
I think it is time to be mindful of how irritating the sun can be, especially, when you’re driving home from work at 5:45pm. At this time, the sun (purposely of course) positions itself at precisely the perfect angle along the horizon, where it pierces your eyeballs and you struggle to correct your vehicle away from incoming traffic (protective eye wear is futile). Then, the police car on the side of the road starts to move, but hesitates and then remains in place. The eager law enforcer must have realized that I was not intoxicated yet, sensing that what made me swerve was the same thing that kept him concealed in plain blinding light. So, as the teaching goes: we aren’t always comfortable when we are aware, we are just there for whatever is.
The trail turns eastward and the walker, if walking early in the morning, is rewarded with an illuminated morning view of Boston Mine at Harriman State Park (NY). This old iron mine was last worked just before the 1800’s came to an end. With the sun shining so dramatically over this relic, the walker may be seduced for a closer look into the mine, as I was, but do beware of unsteady rocks and saturated ground within. Best to have a quick look and continue on sauntering.
The sun is many things – a star, a giant sphere of energy and hot plasma, the center of our solar system. I also think of it as the star of aesthetics. It is the main ingredient to a beautiful landscape painting with a rustic old barn; if the direction of light is well represented it is likely a success. A light and dark side is key, but what about temperature and feel? The sun painted on the hillside or riverbank adds a feeling of warmth and comfort to the picture, and the viewer may unknowingly start to smile, as a result.
The stage is set by a solar spotlight. This morning the light is cast on what may seem like random spot of dirt and rock. But, this little lit-up soil patch contains millions of organisms – nematodes, algae, bacteria, and many other. I wonder how many earthworms, pill bugs, and millipedes are hiding under the leaves. Is there a salamander under that rock? I’m not typically a stone-turner, but I do get the urge once in a while.
Nope. Just an assortment of bugs scattering about. This time of year, the photoperiod (aka hours of sunshine) is on the decline in the northeast; this patch of soil and its inhabitants now have a big workload of leaves to decompose, as a result. The Jays seem particularly rambunctious nowadays, as their calls have gotten noticeably louder and more frequent. I wonder if they too are concerned about this photoperiod business; never enough time in the day to cache all those acorns, I suppose. Thanks for planting all those oaks, my friends.