Ever since hurricane Sandy passed by us a week ago (and for a full week before her arrival) we’ve had some pretty unpleasant weather … clouds, rain, a bit of wet snow, and more clouds. Temperatures haven’t risen much out of the 40s and I can’t remember the last time we’ve seen the sun. I had just set myself down at the kitchen table, after a lengthy session of evening chores, when Joanna motioned out the window to the north. I quickly put on my boots, grabbed my Sony Hx9V (I didn’t want to take the time to grab the D600), and ran. The setting sun was peeking through cloud-cover to illuminate the treeline to the east. I’ve commented before on those times of the day that photographers refer to as the Magic Hours … the half hours just before and just after sunrise … and those just before and just after sunset. Photographer Ron Bigelow has provided a nice discussion of why these times lend themselves so nicely to colorful, often dramatic, photos. When I finally got myself outside I was treated to a treeline that had been set aglow. You can see in the image that the most intense rays were focused on the few trunks just right-of-center. As the sun fell below the horizon the illuminating beam swept rapidly southward through the woods. Although the recent rains and winds had joined forces to remove the last of the fall foliage the exposed barked surfaces reflected the intense light in a way that gave the impression the trees were still wearing their coats of autumn color. The cloud layer was not uniform, the wisps collected as if their fuller volumes had been gathered by an invisible string. It was a brief, though glorious, very few moments.