Tis the season of the earliest sunset and what better place to watch it happen than “Sunset Rock“on the shores of Sheepscot Bay?
But as an old and dear friend would have said, “That weren’t much.”
Quite honestly, it was rather anticlimactic.
Hopes for a wildly colorful dynamic sunset were dashed on the rocks. But, it’s the thought that counts.
I know I may be a little obsessed with this whole earliest sunset/shortest day thing, but it does fascinate me. Especially since only nine hours of daylight makes me feel like under-cooked custard pudding. Man, do I miss the light. I don’t think there is enough B vitamin, D vitamin or “Happy Light” exposure to convert my frump.
Sunrise now is about 7 a.m. Sunset is at about 4 p.m. It doesn’t seem quite fair. If overcast, which it has been, the light starts to diminish seriously even before four. On this earliest of sunset days, as you can see, things were really pretty dull. This was partly due to the soon-to-be first substantial snow of our not-quite-yet winter. The same weather, I might add, which created quite a mess for our friends in the southern U.S.
We got a couple calls and some email from folks in the Atlanta, Georgia area, and other parts, who were quite annoyed with their weather. I explained to them all that it was the earliest sunset of the year here in Maine. They were not amused.
At precisely three and a half minutes past four, the little sliver of color noted above, appeared and then disappeared over the Sheepscot River. As I jumped back in my car, blasting the heater onto my aching and chilled hands, it occurred to me that I had just photographed something of little consequence that mattered a lot to me.