Blue Sky?

Years ago, when I first started teaching kindergarten at Trinity Lutheran School in Traverse City, Michigan, I taught my students this song:

     Blue, blue sky, oh, I can see the sky.

     God gave me eyes so I can see the sky.

Blue, blue sky, in the fall, near the North Platte River.

It was a great song, with a verse for each of the five senses. But this verse, at least, was dead wrong, because the sky in not always blue. In fact, in many locations, including northern Michigan, the sky is rarely blue.

I wonder how many early childhood educators expect their students to color the sky blue, with a yellow sunshine in the corner, and maybe a few puffy, white clouds. And if you ask a class full of normal five-year-olds, will any be observant enough, and brave enough, to say that the sky is sometimes gray or black or orange, or any color except the expected blue?

I don't remember when my thinking shifted, but by the time I was teaching preschool, I always gave my students a choice of background colors for their pictures, and we often talked about the different colors of the sun and clouds, as well as the sky.

I have seen skies of every color of the rainbow. A rainbow, in itself, includes all seven colors in order; red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, violet. But beyond that, I have noticed the white, overcast, snowy skies of winter. I cringe when I see the green hues in roiling, gray clouds, predicting hail and possible tornadoes. I love western Nebraska sunrises and sunsets, with ever-changing hues of yellow, orange, pink, and even purple, but I'm not too happy to see a blood-red sun in a smoky sky, signifying a major wildfire close by, or maybe even hundreds of miles away. When I was visiting New Delhi, in India, twenty-some years ago, I was aghast to see the sulfur-yellow and, even, brown skies that resulted from the rampant air pollution there.

Here, in western Nebraska, the skies are often blue. The sunsets are usually beautiful--and colorful. The sunrises, too, are consistently amazing, or so I have been told, but I am not a morning person, so I don't photograph nearly as many sunrises as sunsets.

My normal morning view of the sunrise, in all its glory.

Over the past year, I have taken dozens of pictures of the beautiful Nebraska sky. Most have been taken within a few blocks of my house, and nearly all have been taken in Scotts Bluff County, with my iPhone 6. Believe it or not, my phone takes better pictures than any camera I have ever owned, and it is always with me, so I can snap a photo at a moment's notice.

Sometimes the photos with the least amount of color are the most interesting:

 

Migrating flocks in the fall.

The fog blocks out most of Scotts Bluff, turning the sky white.

Threatening clouds provide a dramatic backdrop at the railroad crossing.

Sometimes, the clouds dwarf everything in sight, as these photos show:

 

Even the Monument appears to be small, in comparison to the threatening clouds above it.

These pink clouds in the eastern sky, over Northfield Park, reflect the western sunset.

  

Sometimes, a simple landscape photo becomes a well-balanced work of art,
just because some puffy clouds are in the right place.

  

A partly sunny, winter day, along the North Platte River.

Here, jet trails crisscross the bright winter sky above Gering.

Western Nebraska sunsets offer outstanding displays of God's ever-changing handiwork. From the rising of the sun to the place where it sets, the name of the LORD is to be praised. Psalm 113:3

Thousands of photographs have been taken of Chimney Rock at sunset, but no two are exactly alike.

 

These majestic clouds above Northfield Park mirror the setting sun below.

Fire in the western sky, at Northfield Park. 

  

A purple sunset over "Academy Lake," behind Gering High School.

A lingering sunset turns the whole sky orange over Dome Rock.

This photo speaks for itself: the artist has even signed his work in the "artist's corner."

The nighttime sky is fascinating, but my camera doesn't do it justice. I would love to capture the Milky Way and the full, harvest moon, but it will have to wait until another year. It might be about time to take up Meagan's offer to borrow her spare camera so I can practice, and hopefully perfect, some shots of the midnight sky. 

Here, the inky, indigo sky plays peek-a-boo through the lilies and trees.

The heavens are telling of the glory of God; and their expanse is declaring the work of His hands.

Psalm 19:1