One rule I’ve been fairly assiduous about keeping is the one that mandates I throw ball with my son whenever he requests it. Given my spotty upbringing, I never learned to work on cars or build things, but I’m damn proud to say I’ve thrown footballs and baseballs with my son. I’m not half-bad at it, either. Not every guy can say that. Hooray for me.
Tonight, I suspect my 17-year-old son wanted an excuse to stand outside and look at the strange, orangey sky—he would have been self-conscious doing just that, so he enlisted me to throw a foam rubber football. Of course, I wasn’t going to say no, but not before snapping these pictures of June’s final exit, the first half of 2014 going out in a literal blaze of glory.
|Looking east-southeast. Once these thunderstorms hit the Colorado high plains they really blow up.|
|Facing south, over the spine of my garage roof. Like nuclear hellfire.|
|It looked a lot more post-apocalyptic in the viewer. Oh, well.|
|I thought this had something of an interdimensional vortex look to it. As the sun set the tips of this clouds would turn an eerie pink.|
|At the same time, you have this to the north.|
|This is to the north and east, where the sun is going down.|
|This is the one photo in the bunch that captures the mood of the light. Note the clouds from two photos up.|
|The crescent moon falls behind the clouds on its way to set behind the Front Range.|
|Here’s a better look at that moon. Goodnight, moon. Farewell, June. I’ll eat my ice cream with a spoon |
while I read Dune. See ya soon!
On top of all this, we had a great time throwing ball in the street. So far, so good, Summer 2014.