Several consecutive days of sunny forecasts coaxed Gracie and me to one of our favorite Old Mission ridges to witness the sunsets over West Bay.
Saturday had been a blue sky, not-a-cloud-in-sight kind of day. The sunset was going to be that way too, I thought.
Pure, vivid colors cast reflections on the bay.
As the sun sank, the sky colors deepened into hues of reds and golds. Doesn’t get much better than this.
We watched a bit of the afterglow too, noticing the progress of a sailboat heading into port from Lake Michigan.
Sunday started out sunny, but turned cloudy in the afternoon. The forecast for the sunset wasn't good, and I considered not going out, until some rays of sunshine hit my yard in early evening. When I got to the ridge, I could see a solid cloud bank would occlude the sunset.
With an absence of drama in the sky, I watched a visibly pregnant doe munching on field grasses nearby. Gracie’s nose twitched continuously at all the smells of the new place.
As for the sunset, it didn't improve from the narrow strip of pink opening above the horizon to the south of us. The weather forecast predicted tomorrow night would be better.
As I drove to the Old Mission ridge on Monday evening, I felt the promise of another good sunset show. The sun was so bright, it nearly blinded me. There were a few clouds too, but they often make for more interesting skies so I wasn’t concerned.
And then, not three minutes later, something happened. Clouds from above and clouds from below conspired mid-sky to almost totally block the setting sun.
We watched and waited for the skies to change. Gracie hung out the car window, her ears flying around with the strong wind gusts that rocked my car on the high ridge.
But this was as good as it got. I’ve learned that sunset watching is a lot like a crapshoot. You never know what’s coming until you get to the watch spot and see what comes up.