Silhouetted trees at sunset. Photo by Bruce Stambaugh
The Autumnal Equinox was a week ago for those living in the Northern Hemisphere. I was fortunate to catch the summer’s last sunset as I stepped out the front door of our daughter’s house in Harrisonburg, Virginia.
It had been cloudy all day, so the illuminated western sky was a pleasant surprise. I didn’t have my camera along, so all these photos were captured by my iPhone 14 mini.
When my wife and I reached an open spot on a hill behind Eastern Mennonite University, the sunset was reaching its peak. I snapped my way to the space that provided an unobstructed view of the Allegheny Mountains 30 miles away.
I was amazed at the various colors that summer’s final sunset produced. The blues and pinks hung high in the evening sky. Closer to the horizon, the warmer colors dominated.
It was a pretty punctuation mark on a summer that brought tornadoes, flooding, drought, wildfires, and days on end of gray skies here in the usually picturesque Shenandoah Valley.
Mole Hill is in the foreground left and the Allegheny Mountains are beyond.
One of a pair of hot air balloons that landed in our neighborhood. Photo by Bruce Stambaugh.
My wife and I had just returned from an overnight trip to Lansdale, Pennsylvania, visiting friends. We were tired from driving and had settled in for the evening to watch our favorite baseball team, the Cleveland Guardians. Then, our neighbor Jonathan came over to tell us two hot air balloons were sailing south of our home.
I went out the back door and photographed the balloons high in the sky. However, it didn’t take long to realize that the balloons were quickly descending. There wasn’t much wind, which isn’t unusual around sunset, so I wasn’t sure where they would land. We soon found out.
When I first sighted the hot air balloons.Heading to the community park.Sailing over our neighbors’ houses.Alternate touchdown!
Please click on the photos to enlarge them.
Both balloons began sinking toward our house. They briefly went out of sight but silently reappeared over other neighbors’ homes. Thinking they were aiming for our local park, Neva and I jumped in the car and headed there. I drove carefully as children raced on bicycles and people ran from their homes to watch the balloons land.
I initially drove into the park, but the first balloon was already on the ground, swarmed by curious folks, young and old. It was then I heard the second balloon fire its gas burner. I looked up, and it was between two houses, still heading north. It had overshot the park. We got in the car and drove to find where this balloon would set down.
When we found it, the skillful pilot had already gingerly landed it on a narrow street in our suburban housing development. With a tree on each side of the road, it had been a tight landing. The pilot kept opening the gas valve burner briefly to create more heat to keep the balloon’s envelope from collapsing into one of the trees. He kept firing the burner until the ground team arrived with the trailer to haul the balloons and their baskets back home.
As much as I enjoy baseball, I will take this unexpected and extraordinary entertainment any day.
The first balloon landed safely in the community park at sunset. Photo by Bruce Stambaugh.
In recent years, I have noticed many Subaru vehicles plastered with stickers of all kinds, mostly on their back windows. Some of the decals promote conservation, some politics, and some are head-scratchers.
I figured I would document my observations when I came upon this one.
Please click on the photos to enlarge them.
What do you think? Have you seen Subarus covered with multiple decals like these? And for full disclosure, my Forester only has two such stickers. And yes, they are on the rear window.
The windrows of the fresh-cut alfalfa and the dark green rows of cornstalks seem to reach to the sky, thanks to the rolling field’s topography. In actuality, the fluffy cumulous clouds rolled over the Blue Ridge Mountains 40 miles east of Harrisonburg, Virginia.
Those are the raw details. The scene’s stark beauty speaks for itself.
A male Indigo Bunting preening along the Appalachian Trail.
Whenever I go exploring, I can always expect the unexpected. It’s what drives me to get out of doors.
I headed to Shenandoah National Park to mainly photograph butterflies. I had seen photos from the park with Turks Cap Lilies blooming. Those lovely flowers are magnets for butterflies.
I knew a place in the park where I had previously seen butterflies flock to the beautiful lilies. It happened to be where the Appalachian Trail crosses Skyline Drive. The location also had a parking lot designed primarily for day hikers.
I pulled in and was immediately disappointed. No Turks Cap Lilies were to be found. Across the road, other wildflowers were blooming, so I started heading there.
When I go to the park, it should be no surprise that I multitask. My camera is strapped across my left shoulder for easy access, and my binoculars dangle around my neck for wildlife spotting, especially birds.
Just as I reached the crosswalk, a bird flushed out of the undergrowth to a dead tree limb at the forest’s edge. It was a male Indigo Bunting, always a beautiful bird to see.
I stopped, swung my camera around, aimed, focused, and clicked away. As I did so, this beautiful bird began to preen in the morning sunshine. The lighting was perfect, and the bird entertained me for several minutes before a passing car caused it to dive for cover.
Butterflies were few and far between as I checked in at different locations in the park. Nevertheless, watching this enchanting bird for those precious minutes made the trip worthwhile.
Since our home faces north, I always have to keep a sharp lookout for a lovely sunset. When I noticed the southern sky turned golden last evening, I grabbed my cameras and headed to a nearby farm pasture to get a good view to the west.
I couldn’t believe my eyes when I exited my car. The sky lit up in every direction with varying and rapidly changing intensities. I did my best to capture the unfolding beauty surrounding me.
The glow to the west was filled with a variety of warm colors. A large cloud curved and swirled overhead, reflecting the setting sun in many hues north and east. To the south, the sky was more pink than orange. Added altogether, I felt privileged to inhale the enveloping wonder.
The slideshow provides views from every direction.
On the last day of July, puffy white clouds floated lazily over Silver Lake in the tiny town of Dayton, Virginia. It was a fitting end to a crazy hot month with little rainfall here in Virginia’s Shenandoah Valley.
A gentle breeze ruffled the placid, shallow lake enough to seemingly digitalize the sky’s reflection. Its effect highlighted the heavenly scene above the old barn and farmhouse.
Today begins the dog days of August. It was pleasing to experience July’s cool exit, knowing the eighth month can often bring brutal temperatures and little precipitation in North America.
Soon after a severe thunderstorm blew through last evening, I noticed some pinkish clouds in the east. That usually is a sign of a beautiful sunset. I hustled out to the street and was treated to this beautiful scene.
Crepuscular rays radiated through the clouds as the sun sank behind the Allegheny Mountains to our west. I knew I wouldn’t have time to drive to higher ground, so I settled for this image from our front yard.
Viewing the Shenandoah Valley from an overlook in Shenandoah National Park.
Several recent studies have proved the obvious. Regularly spending time in and with nature dramatically enhances people’s mental health and appreciation for life.
That wasn’t news to me. Fortunately, I grew up in a family that spent time hunting, fishing, and vacationing in the great outdoors. I continued that pattern with my own family, minus the hunting. I prefer to shoot animals and everything else with cameras. It saves on taxidermy costs.
We moved to Virginia’s lovely Shenandoah Valley six years ago to be close to our grandchildren. Besides spoiling them, I also make regular trips to the nearby mountains. I multitask. On my hikes, I bird and photograph what I encounter.
Every outing, I discover new birds, wildflowers, and paths to explore. I often go alone, but I also enjoy sharing the fun with others. A group trip into the wild affords opportunities to explore nature together.
A recent outing to Shenandoah National Park with another senior friend and our teenage mentees from church allowed us to reengage with all the benefits of nature. I don’t know why the boys picked us, but we immediately hit it off. We all enjoy hiking and exploring, so the park was a natural destination for a day trip.
Once in the park, we veered off the famous Skyline Drive to Lewis Mountain Campground. I wanted to show the boys the only location in the park where Blacks were permitted during segregation. Even then, a few Whites complained that they should have access to the entire park.
At Big Meadows, we toured the exhibit of the park’s contentious founding at the Byrd Visitors Center. Not surprisingly, the youngsters showed more interest in the gift shop.
Then we got serious. We walked the southern parameter of the meadow. Its variety of habitats piqued their interest, from stands of trees to prairie grasses to artistic cairns. On the southernmost trail, the view of the Shenandoah Valley was spectacular.
As we walked the cowpath-like trails, we encountered several bird species by sight and song and saw several butterflies that visited the wildflowers growing everywhere. Bright red wild columbines, vibrant woodland sunflowers, and common milkweed showed their colors and aired their fragrances.
Where the meadow met the forest, we spooked twin fawns. They only ran a short distance since they were foraging on shrub leaves. They seemed as intrigued with us as we were with them.
After a picnic lunch, we chose a short but magnificent trail. The Shenandoah Valley glimmered in the afternoon sunshine as we reached the summit and a massive rock outcropping. We basked in the comfortable, crisp 73 degrees of the Blue Ridge Mountains while the valley baked in the humid 80s.
It was good to commune with nature again, especially while sharing it with friends across generations. We breathed in cool, fresh air, were lulled by birdsong, enchanted by colorful flora and fauna, humbled by history, and energized by the needed exercise.
I was also glad we could personally verify the legitimacy of those extensive studies.
A memorial to those displaced when Shenandoah National Park was formed.
Roadkill Crossing 
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