Lensworth sunsets here!
December Sunsets are always familiar and never the same. They are always uplifting and always shifting. When someone says “hey, look at this sunset,” do NOT wait. They change instant by instant and are part of the reason we need a camera within reach. Phones seem especially great for sunrise and sunset pictures. The lighting on computer screens is also especially good for these glowing photographs.
December sunsets never get old. I’ve tried. I go out night after night thinking, “I’ve seen this one before.” And then the sky politely proves me wrong.
These particular sunsets are all looking southwest, that reliable compass point where the day seems to take a bow before leaving the stage. In December, the sun takes a lower, slower path, and that angle changes everything. Light stretches. Colors linger. Shadows grow longer and more thoughtful. The mountains don’t just sit there, they participate.
What makes December special is the air. Cold air is honest air. It strips out haze, dust, and excuses. The result is clarity, and clarity turns even familiar landscapes into something newly revealed. Reds deepen without shouting. Oranges glow rather than blaze. Purples and blues creep in quietly, as if they’ve been waiting all day for their turn.
And yet, no two evenings are alike. One night the sky is all fire and bravado. The next, it’s subtle and restrained, pastels layered like watercolor washes. Sometimes clouds catch the light and carry it far beyond where the sun actually is. Other times the clouds step aside entirely, letting the light speak for itself.
Looking southwest in December also means watching weather happen in real time. A distant front, a high cloud deck, a whisper of snow somewhere over the horizon. The sunset becomes a forecast, a mood ring, a short story written in color and then erased…