Anatomy of a Seneca Lake Sunset

During our Labor Day visit to the Finger Lakes, we were gifted with amazing sunsets every. single. night. I am not exaggerating when I say this, as they really were remarkable. Because here’s the thing: normally our vacation sunsets ain’t so great. When we cruise, even in the Caribbean, we’re lucky if we get one or two good sunsets. Trips to Florida? Maybe one decent sunset if we’re lucky. We are blessed with regularly awesome sunsets in DC, but can usually only see them from our tiny backyard & the view is blocked by fences & power lines & trees. So it was really something to stand out on our 70′ dock jutting out into Seneca Lake & watch the sun go down behind the hills. Here’s the anatomy of a Seneca Lake sunset… or five sunsets.

(P.S. Because a few of you asked, these are 100% non-edited, non-enhanced photos. These are sunsets the way the man upstairs intended.)

Night One

First night, really jazzed to be there, perched on the dock, bottle of Heron Hill 2010 Eclipse red in hand.

It has been overcast all day with spotty rain in the area, so we thought sunset might be a bust:

But I’ve learned from my many years of living on the Gulf Coast of Florida, sometimes cloudy sunsets are the best. As the sun dipped toward the horizon, the sky began to warm up a bit, yet the dark clouds lingered:

Before long, the cold front passed over us with a flurry of wind & drizzle & the dark clouds departed – except for this one, which looked oddly like the Nike Swoosh (is it Swoosh or Swish?):

The sun dropped below the Swoosh & we were left with a really pretty sunset:

I was satisfied. But of course, you always have to hang around afterward because the sky can sometimes do amazing things (I learned this once watching the sunset in Barbados when the sky turned lavender). Case in point:

Night Two

The second night, we met some friends for dinner at Stonecat Cafe & sat outside on their fabulous back patio. In between cocktails, we marveled as the sun dipped behind the vineyards. I had my back to the sunset (rookie mistake), so this was one of the only shots I got of what was a great view:

Night Three

By the third day, we were into a little routine: get up, I’d make breakfast (those who know me are laughing & astonished), hike our buns off in the morning, wine taste our livers off in the afternoon, come back to the cabin, watch the sunset with a bottle of something local, make dinner, then come back to the shore for a campfire & s’mores (it was perhaps the combination of a bottle of wine each night & multiple s’mores which led to me gaining several pounds on this trip).

The weather on day three had been spectacular, so I knew we were in for a good sunset. In fact, it kind of felt like summer, sitting out on that dock:

Only wisps of clouds in the sky & our Seneca Lake sunset looked more like it belonged in South Florida:

Not a bad way to spend an evening, if I do say so myself:

Night Four

By the fourth consecutive night of doing this, B started to remind me that if I took 100 photos of the sunset every night, I’d be sorting through photos until next Labor Day. So on night four, I concentrated on my book & a bottle of Wagner Vineyards Dry Riesling, & only took one photo. I raised my glass to the sunset & later did I realize that it looked like the sun was actually setting in my glass:

Night Five

I was already depressed when we headed down to watch the sunset. It was the last evening, the last sunset, of our trip. The next day we’d be packing up & driving the six hours home & heading back to work & reacclimating back to urban life & civilization & a routine that did not include daily s’mores. It’s as if the sky knew I needed a little cheering up, because a decent (but average) sunset turned into one of the most spectacular sunset skies I’ve ever seen:

BOOM! BOO-YA! <drops mic>