Pink sky at night

One of the few pictures I took at Merton this summer. I had skipped dinner because I was sick to my stomach, but this sky, after the only rain we'd had, distracted me enough to grab the camera.

Flashback: Uluru up close and from a distance

The path to the monolith from the Visitor Center, and the view at sunset. It's fascinating how all of the curves and complications at the base are invisible from a distance. It just looks like a big, pretty rock.

More urban poetry

I really like this one—early evening, and the sunset reflected in snowmelt on Park Avenue.

Water, water everywhere

And here's today's report from the not-quite Ancient Mariner (who did in fact see several albatrosses today, and shot none.) We're in the middle of the Scotia Sea, and won't get to South Georgia until late Wednesday, so water was really the only thing to photograph today. (Though if you look in the middle of the picture on the left you can see a giant petrel following in the ship's wake and enjoying all the fish and nutrients our engines churn up to the surface. I'll try to get an albatross tomorrow.)

And of course a sunset, because I like sunsets. The sun isn't setting particularly late here, where it's after all early summer, but you can tell how far south we are by its stubborn reluctance to disappear. It sinks slowly, and the red skies linger for hours.

We had our mandatory briefing on the rules for visiting Antarctica and got our boots fitted, and otherwise I read, wrote, ate, and talked to some fellow passengers. The seas aren't so rough that you really notice when you're sitting down (we won't cross the Drake Passage until the end of the trip) but when you stand up and try to walk it's a shock every time. Why is the floor moving?

Sea day

The sunset tonight. We're heading to Port Said, Egypt, and should be entering the Suez Canal at 3:30 in the morning, reaching the Red Sea tomorrow evening.

There was a letter from the captain yesterday, assuring us that they are in touch with all of the relevant authorities and monitoring the situation, and that they have “implemented enhanced security measures.”

This was a sea day, which is why I was able to post more pictures than usual. The rest of the day was devoted to eating too much, walking three miles on the track on the top deck to make up for it (although it was another beautiful day so that wasn't exactly a penance), reading, and just staring out at the water. I thought I might work on next semester's syllabus while I had all this free time.

This did not happen.

Astronomy Tuesday

Sunset on Mars.

Lately it feels as though the news every week somehow manages to be worse than the week before. I do find some comfort in knowing that horrible as so many humans manage to be, we are also capable of endless curiosity and innovation, giving us the technology to see sights like this.

Image credit: NASA

Pity the poor driver

...who thought that taking 42nd Street yesterday evening was a good idea.

In New York, there's always a crowd

I don't know what it was like on the other major crosstown streets, but on 42nd Street, people started congregating an hour before the sun actually set.

More Manhattanhenge

Turned down the exposure, turned up the drama.

Manhattanhenge

A few times a year, the rising or setting sun lines up with the grid of crosstown streets in Manhattan, a phenomenon that has been dubbed Manhattanhenge. The few times that I've remembered it was happening it was cloudy or raining, so last night's sunset was the first time I've actually seen it.

Here's the view from 42nd Street.

Sunrise, sunset

Omicron upended all of my plans for my winter break. I had invitations for overnight visits with two sets of friends, but nobody wants to have or be a houseguest with such a contagious virus running rampant. Then, of course, I got sick myself and got to spend ten days in quarantine.

So I decided to get out of town for a few days, and booked an AirBnB in Montauk, at the eastern tip of Long Island. Where I had enough misadventures to remind myself of all of the less fun aspects of travel, culminating in having to leave a day early when yesterday's predicted rain turned out to be snow.

But here's something I didn't expect to see on this side of the continent: sunset over the ocean. This is Ditch Plains Beach, on the south side of Montauk Point. The sun is so far south this time of year that from the right angle you can actually see it set over the Atlantic.

Urban poetry

It isn't officially summer, but this past weekend was certainly steamy enough to qualify. When I was on the Upper East Side Saturday night, I noticed that suddenly masks were being worn pulled down below the chin. Sure, the CDC said we didn't need to wear masks outside if we're vaccinated, but most people in New York had still been wearing them. 

Then the heat and humidity arrived and suddenly we were all saying, You know, I think I'll just pull the mask down until I have to go inside.

Here's the golden light near sunset on West 43rd Street.

Astronomy Tuesday

Bleak and blue -- the InSight lander took this picture of the Martian sunset in April.

Image Credit: NASA/JPL-Caltech

More urban poetry

Evening sky in Georgetown.

Urban poetry

I have no idea what the cables dangling from this apartment building are for, but they add some interesting detail to this wintry twilight.

Saturday reflections

A late evening summer sky in Santiago, taken from my hotel room.

This was on my first pass through the city; I was staying in the more modern section to the east, nicknamed Sanhattan for the (comparatively) large number of glassy towers. It actually reminded me more of California than Manhattan, and while I liked the older section of the city I stayed in on my return much more, if you want reflections, modern towers with hundreds of windows definitely provide them.

I like the way the reflected clouds in the building create the illusion that you're looking right through it to the sky beyond.

From the hotel archives

Pretend this is a sunrise instead of a sunset and it's a pretty way to start the day.

Uluru

I'm starting from the end here -- this was taken from the sunset viewing area, where we lined up with all the other tourists, and drank champagne and ate smoked salmon while we watched the colors change as the sun set.

Uluru is referred to as a monolith, but it's much more complicated than that word suggests. One of the most interesting features  -- which you can see clearly in this picture -- is the way the layers of sandstone are vertical. You could see the same kind of stratification in the sandstone around Alice Springs, but that was mostly horizontal, as you would expect. But at some point in the distant geologic past this mass of stone was somehow flipped onto its side.

Farewell Istanbul

I know, I know -- a sunset. How obvious.

But this is the view from the hotel terrace, where I had the last glass of wine I'll have for at least the next couple of weeks, and I think it's a fitting goodbye to this magical city. I'm off to Tehran.

Anchorage

Sunset over the Cook Inlet, taken from my hotel room tonight.

I'm staying in Anchorage tomorrow, but it's going to be raining, so I made myself walk around this afternoon, even though I was just wiped out. Unlike Fairbanks, there is a discernible "downtown" but what was odd was that there didn't seem to be any people.

At five o'clock on a weekday you would expect crowds of people leaving work, rush hour traffic, happy hours at local bars. But it was very quiet -- no crowds, no traffic.