Photos of a gorgeous sunse t

With lots of sunshine and soaring temperatures in the ten-day forecast, Alan and I decided it was time to head to Grand Haven and celebrate a sunset send-off for winter.

Theoretically it was above freezing, but a fierce wind was blowing across Lake Michigan so the beach was treacherously icy.

Only the far reaches of our eyesight could perceive open water as a small ribbon of black on the horizon.

Despite the wind nipping at our fingers and noses, we stood transfixed.

In the distance behind us was a long row of people watching from the warmth of their cars, and in distance ahead were a few brave souls trekking out to the end of the icy pier. We were content with our somewhat precarious perch on the shoreline.

Translucent chunks of ice had buckled and broken into sharp, geometric shapes that shimmered pink and purple in the glowing sunset.

Before driving to Grand Haven, we debated whether or not we’d be disappointed in the color, since it was a perfectly clear evening.

In fact, it was so gorgeous I found myself thinking, “I’ve gotta take lots ‘n’ lots of pictures to share!”

“Hopefully, some of them will turn out!”

A pair of geese soared overhead, and I wondered where they were headed. Maybe to our little lake? It was time for our geese to return.

Do you know how long a sunset takes? Only about five minutes!

Once the sun starts to dip below the horizon, it goes in a twinkle, and yet every moment the light and color change. We watched a group of silent birds, so high in the sky we couldn’t identify them. Flying somewhere into the wild, pink yonder.

As the sun gasped its last breath before plunging underwater, I could finally see the ominous waves rolling in toward the ice-jammed shore.

Goodbye Sunset. Goodbye Winter.

Goodbye Snow Moon! I’d watched the last full moon of winter rising like a Hallmark movie set over our lake just last week. March’s full moon will be the “Sugar” Moon or the “Sap” Moon, because the sap is starting to run!

We could only pull ourselves away from the frozen beach after the last rays of light were losing strength. I sighed happily and leaned heavily on Alan’s arm for support. We hadn’t worn our Yak Trax, and the beach was pitted with icy rifts and tiny valleys.

What a blessing and comfort to have a mate to walk through the seasons and sunsets of life! What a blessing to have our eternal Father, upon whose everlasting arms we can lean even more heavily as the sunset of life approaches. Will the end be glorious and beautiful . . . calm despite the winds, like this sunset?