Glowing sky is a glimmer of hope for rain swamped SE Texas

A soft glowing sky settles over Beaumont, TX -- hopefully a sign of better times to come as the region tries to recover from the torrential deluge with which Harvey swamp our area.

Fire-breathing sky

A fire-breathing sky  in Beaumont, TX settling in for the night.

Sunset: Flecked, brushed, hatched and pied

Flecked, brushed, hatched and pied, this sunset from last week caught my eye as it gave calm comfort to the ending of a busy day.

Setting sun can't quench boiling mad storm

This was part of the thunderstorm that violently boiled up over our house at sunset yesterday.  The storm dumped about two inches of rain as the daylight faded.

This is a sunset shot taken from a I-10 overpass on the south side of Beaumont. Tropical Storm Cindy probably had a large hand in the color scheme -- tropical systems seem to make sunsets more interesting as the systems approach

Feathery sunset watchers of Bolivar Peninsula

The suns sets over East Bay on the Bolivar Peninsula ( on the coast of the Gulf of Mexico) while a Brown Pelican and a Gull take up their sunset posts at the dock by the Stingaree  Restaurant and bar to enjoy the view.

Fire-filled nightfall on Bolivar Peninsula's East Bay

A fiery sun slides into East Bay off Bolivar Peninsula as the boat docks grow quiet for the night.

The highway's sky beckons

This was driving home last night into a serene sunset.  The sky was swept with a beach-sand rippling that turned into an rusty ocher as the sun played out its last rays from below the horizon.  These are the kind of drives that make you want to hit to open road.

The last rain dance?

The rains have come back to Southeast Texas.  They are not really drought-ending soakings.  More like a sprinkling compared to months of sparce moisture.  This was the 12 tee-box a the Brentwood Country Club late Sunday evening, the day before the first rain fell in weeks.  The sprinklers were shooting high into the air, letting the water fall like rain drops.  I guess you could call it a rain dance.

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Tattered, strewn sky

This is just one more look at that jigsawed sunset that spread out like a lint-covered ceiling a couple weeks ago.

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Shredded hope

This is another shot from that amazing sunset this past weekend.  With the way the clouds were shredded I expected some wet weather.

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Folded, spindled, mutilated and pierce clouds.

It was a very strange sunset the other night with winds shreding clouds in to tethers with sharps winds aloft.  This is a straight up shot that lost some of its blueness in trying to bring out the clouds. Notice the jet piercing it's way across the sky.  I can't even imagine what the heavens looked like from up there.

Sundown -- the passing nature over to the night.

It is that time of the night when the sun has slipped beyond the horizon, but still leaves its magical visage hanging in the waves of darkness that seep into the clouds, stealing their substance.  There are no sharp lines anymore, they exist only only in the firmness of the light. Now, the horizon is just a water coloring smearing upon itself. Soon the sun share no soul with the color-drained heavens. Reds will drift in the night sky as greyish ghosts, forgetting for one dreamy night their water-giving nature.
--steve buser

Sunset

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Still sunset

The stillness, quiet and whispering tones of a backyard sunset.
--steve buser

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River of light, ripples along the way

This was the upside down beach-of-a-sky sunset over Beaumont, Texas, a few days ago. Dark clouds upstaged by ripples catching the sunset light
--steve buser

sunset, texas

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The Golden Second

As we went into Logan's the other night, I noticed a bank of white clouds building in the sky. "It would bea great shot," I thought, but was too lazy to go back to the car for my camera. However, on the way out, my laziness was rewarded (the universe is perverse) when we saw the tops of the clouds, catching that last few seconds of orangish-pink rays -- the sun had already set, sicentists tell us, but old Helios had figured away to curve his arrows and sent them streaming through the highest layers of the sky, ignoring the horizon.

I new I had only a few seconds, so I ran to my car and grabbed my glass eye and started shooting. As pretty as this picture is, it only captures a fragment of the beauty - the rays had already climbed halfway up the bank of clouds -- a blow off from a massive thunderstorm that had formed to the east.

You have heard of the "golden hour" right? This would have to be called the "golden second" -- I only got 5 shots off before the gold was gone and night washed in like a tide covering a beach.

Every once in a while God plays with the scenery to remind us that every second is precious. Most of the time we are too busy to watch and let the meaning sink in.
--steve buser

Clounds, sunset, Beaumont, TexasPowered by ScribeFire.

Sun stone

Just another sunset photo for today's pix. I am practicing some new techniques.
--steve buser

Sunset, Beaumont, Texas

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Night life

The night is alive as it breathes the last breath of the day. Beaumont settles into a sweaty summer sleep.
--steve buser

Sunset, Beaumont, Texas

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The sky if falling. Hurray!

Beaumont's fireworks display downtown last night was a real bang. The (somewhat) cool night, and days of dry weather (few mosquitoes) made a perfect night for watching the sky explode and fall down.
--steve buser

Fireworks, Beaumont, Texas

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Little Green Heron

I am up in Austin today.  I waw wandering outside of the hotel just now and found a path down to the Aboretum, This Little Green Heron (Butorides striatus) was wading for his supper catch as the sun was getting ready to go behind the Austin hills. The Little Green is the smallest of the herons in North America. He had nothing to fear from me, but the group of people at the other end of the pond left with their duck-feeding kids and all the ducks, geese and grackle came flocking to see if I was so inclined. Pretty soon, our protagonist here decided to flutter down the pond a distance.
--steve buser