


It looks like a scene set on the fictional world of Tatooine, but this shot is of the sun setting on the empty, desolate planet of Mars.
In the whole of our history, we are the first human beings to witness a Martian sunset. Just think about that. We can see from the vantage point of an island that we as a species should never have reached.
I’ve said it before-this is a place where the silence has never been broken by spoken word.
One day it will. I wonder what that first word will be?
I say ‘silence’, but if you do a search you can discover an audio video that enables you to listen to the sound of this far-flung place. A place with few natural sounds except the wind.
I find things like this awe-inspiring. And there’s now lots of images to keep me going for some time yet. Rocky landscapes beneath a salmon sky.
I hope they instil in you the same sense of wonder that they do me. But if you are looking for a photo credit, though – I’m sorry, I didn’t take them.
This morning the estate I live on was a cold one. People seemed to carry more weight as they moved about it, with backs bent and shoulders hunched.
But there was a beauty there, too (something not often said about the place), if they would just stop for a moment, straighten up, and take it in.
A stark urban beauty, shaking off the shackles of sleep.
She who, in the beginning, first gave us life, will be the one at the end to finish us.
Small town lass visits big city (I can’t say Village person, it doesn’t sound right). After more than two years, I finally get on buses and head west…
Jill goes to Manc
A fellow blogger’s visit to my ‘town’. I know it’s a city, but we always say town!
This was the sight that greeted me the other night, and what a beautiful sight it was too. As dusk fell the sky turned a fiery orange. A final moment of glory, blazing into blackness.
And of course, I had to get a photograph of it, although I’m sure you guys would have believed me without one.
It was reported that some Britons were puzzled by a yellow sky, some by a red sky, while where I was it was definitely an orange sky. But whatever tint you got, it turned out that the cause was a Saharan dust cloud that had made its way over here. Crossing borders with neither a visa or a passport.
This just goes to show how things happening elsewhere can have an affect on us here (wherever the ‘us here’ is, as the application is universal for you, dear reader, too).
The butterfly affect, six degrees of separation and all that. Nothing happens in a vacuum, there’s always a knock on effect.
The alarming conflict going on in Eastern Europe further illustrates this, as the ramifications spread across the globe like an unsettling web that we are all getting caught up in.
But it doesn’t have to be just negative things.
A fellow blogger (and honorary Manc) living over the Pond produced the latest of her musical ventures there which also had an affect right here.
This was her CD that recently arrived, and early one morning this corner of Northern England became transformed into the desert setting of New Mexico, the setting which, along with a family of rescue goats, inspired the music to be found on here. Something born there found new life here.
From New Mexico to Manchester.
I never checked, but maybe while I was sat inside listening to Laura’s music the sky outside was orange again.
*Laura’s blog can be found here: