"Simon Bennett" wrote in message
...
On Tue, 26 Jan 2010 17:04:02 +0000, Philip Eden wrote:

Absolutely stunning sequence of colours here in south Beds ... yellow,
gold, pink, crimson, deep salmon, and now nectarine.

Reminiscent of those sunsets in Feb 2008.

Like this? http://dl.dropbox.com/u/1127109/P1040539.JPG (Ramsgate)


was the same here in Oxfordshire stunning

"Bonos Ego" wrote in message
...
It was the same here in Teignmouth about 5:15, a long afterglow.

And up here on Dartmoor, the light was eerie but rather nice I thought with
the frost forming on the ground at the same time!

Will
--

On 26/01/2010 20:26, Bonos Ego wrote:
It was the same here in Teignmouth about 5:15, a long afterglow.

This was the sky at Bath - not my photo - it announced itself when the
west lit up the eastern sky with a sheet of pink, and went on from there
- extraordinary sight.

http://www.flickr.com/photos/bathintime/4306362787/

In article ,
Philip Eden writes:
Absolutely stunning sequence of colours here in south Beds ...
yellow, gold, pink, crimson, deep salmon, and now
nectarine.

Reminiscent of those sunsets in Feb 2008.

Philip

Rats. I seem to have missed seeing it through drawing my curtains just a
bit too early.
--
John Hall
"Acting is merely the art of keeping a large group of people
from coughing."
Sir Ralph Richardson (1902-83)

And another

http://www.flickr.com/photos/41824612@N08/

On Jan 26, 9:32*pm, Mark A wrote:
And another

http://www.flickr.com/photos/41824612@N08/

Wonderful sunrise in Dawlish this morning too; quite breathtaking.
Cloudy now and the light frost has melted very recently and quickly.

On Jan 26, 5:04*pm, "Philip Eden" philipATweatherHYPHENukDOTcom
wrote:
Absolutely stunning sequence of colours here in south Beds ...
yellow, gold, pink, crimson, deep salmon, and now
nectarine.

Reminiscent of those sunsets in Feb 2008.

I was looking through Gutenbergs servers for natural history stuff
(Actually D/l-ing anything I fancied) and came across this extract
from Mexico in the mid 19th Century:

++


CHAPTER IX.

The weather was warm without being suffocating; the slanting rays of
the sun were moderated by the foliage, the birds were singing and to-
day, like yesterday, seemed as if it would be one of the least
fatiguing in our journey.

Several days later, in the midst of the Terre-Temperee and surrounded
by white and black oaks. Ceibas, elm, cedars and lignum-vitae trees
only grew here and there. The timber, growing widely apart, allowed us
to pass easily; we were in a virgin-forest but were still too high up
above the plains to have to struggle against the inextricable net-work
of tropical creepers.

The sun was setting; its golden rays, quivering among the branches,
appeared one by one to get higher and higher until gloom began
gradually to pervade the forest. We were assembled around our bivouac,
when a rosy tint suddenly illumined the tops of the trees and
penetrated through the foliage.

As this marvellous effect of light appeared to last a considerable
time, we again went into the open glade, so as to be better able to
observe it.

The sky appeared as if it was all in a blaze; vast glittering jets of
light seemed as if darting from the setting sun; a few clouds, tinted
with bright red colour, flitted across the heavens. The bright gleam
became more and more vivid but without at all dazzling our eyes. A few
birds might be heard uttering shrill cries; and the falcons, who were
making their way to their aeries, stopped for a moment their rapid
flight and whirled round and round in space with an undecided air.

"The wind will blow tremendously to-morrow," said l'Encuerado; "only
once before did I ever see the sky lighted up as it is to-night and
then two days after there was a frightful hurricane, which demolished
most of the huts in our village."

I attributed this phenomenon of light to the position of the clouds.

The intensity of the light decreased till it was nothing but a
glimmer. L'Encuerado's prediction seemed as if it was likely to be
realized. About three o'clock in the morning we were awakened by a
hoarse roaring; the trees seemed to shiver; sometimes the uproar
appeared to grow less and almost to cease and then broke out again
louder than ever. I hastened to warm some coffee; but two or three
times the intermittent squalls scattered the burning faggots of our
fire and the hot ashes nearly blinded us. This mishap was owing to the
open glade being so near to us, across which the wind rushed furious
and unrestrained.

Almost before daylight appeared, I led my companions farther under the
trees, the state of the atmosphere making me feel very uncomfortable.
The lofty tree-tops, roughly shaken by the wind, showered down upon us
a perfect hail of twigs and dead leaves. We were almost deafened by
the noise of the clashing boughs; sad and silent we proceeded on our
way, perceiving no signs of any living creature and in much trouble
how we should obtain our dinners.

Towards mid-day, the wind fell; puffs of heat, which seemed to spring
from the ground beneath, almost suffocated us. Lucien did not say a
word but, in spite of my advice, he was constantly lifting his gourd
to his lips, a proceeding which could only excite his thirst. We were,
I believe, the only living beings moving under the shade, which now
seemed converted into a hot furnace.

Meeting with some rocks, we made up our minds to hurry on, thinking to
come upon a stream; a vain hope!--the rocks soon came to an end and
were succeeded by a perfect labyrinth of trees. If there had only been
a little grass, we should have set to work to construct our hut; for
the dry heat, blown up by the south wind, rendered exertion almost
unbearable.

A second time we found ourselves among rocks; but they were so
enormous and so close together, that it was evident we were in the
vicinity of a mountain. Following my companions, we soon came upon a
dry, barren spot in front of a steep ascent. After we had all taken
breath, I gave it as my opinion that we should overcome our fatigue
and scale the side of the mountain; but no one showed any inclination
to move.

My poor Lucien lay panting on the hard stones, with his mouth dry, his
lips bleeding and his face purple with the heat; he had thought the
day's work was over. Nevertheless, as soon as he saw us starting
again, up he got and followed us without a word of complaint. I wished
to lighten his burden; but he heroically refused and proportioned his
pace to that of l'Encuerado. Gringalet was continually sitting down
and hanging out his tongue to a most enormous length; it was,
doubtless, his way of testifying that he moved an amendment against
the length of the journey.

"We were quite wrong in finding fault with the shade," said
Sumichrast; "for in this unsheltered spot the heat is more
insupportable than under the trees. The sun seems to dart into us as
if its rays were needles' points."

"Let us make a halt," said my friend, who was sheltering himself under
a gigantic rock; "I confess that I am dead-beat."
It was a great relief when we were seated down and deprived of our
burdens; but, instead of setting to work, according to our usual
custom, to collect wood for our fire and to construct our hut, we
remained idle, looking at the horizon, without exchanging a single
word.

At our feet extended, as far as we could see, the tree-tops of an
immense forest. We had turned our backs upon the volcano of Orizava;
on our right the black summits of the Cordillera stood out against the
red sky; the urubu vultures were whirling round and round high up
above us -the only living creatures we had set eyes on since the
evening before.

It was now four o'clock; a kind of hot blast beat into our faces,
producing the same sensation as that experienced in front of a furnace
when the door is suddenly opened. The south wind sprung up again and
squall succeeded squall--the forest undulating like a liquid surface.

I in vain endeavoured to overcome the state of nervous prostration
which had come over me; the terrible wind which parched and burned us
took away all power of will. Our eyes were inflamed, our lips cracked
and our heads heavy and no one cared about eating; all we longed for
was water and we were obliged to watch Lucien, to prevent him emptying
his gourd. He was nibbling a morsel of totopo, which he, like us,
could hardly swallow. Sheltered behind the rock, we contemplated with
dread the colossal trees round us, which swayed and bent, sprinkling
the ground with their scattered boughs.

The sun set, pale and rayless, as if drowned in the ill-omened yellow
clouds. The wind kept puffing and blowing at intervals. A few minutes'
lull enabled us to collect a little grass and then, seated side by
side, we watched the approach of night, dark, desolate and starless;
but the comparative coolness of the atmosphere gave some little relief
to our exhausted lungs.

What an awful night! About nine o'clock the squalls ran riot with
unexampled violence; if it had not been for our shelter behind the
rock, we should surely have been swept away. From the forest beneath
came a roar like that of waves beating against a cliff; branches broke
off with an uproar sounding like a series of gun-shots and the leaves,
driven by the wind, covered us with their debris.

Every now and then an inexplicable and increasing hoarse rumbling
filled my mind with anxiety. I listened, holding my breath with fear;
the rumbling seemed to approach, as if bringing with it new and
unknown perils. Then suddenly, prevailing over the tumult, a
formidable crash made itself heard, followed by a shock prolonged by
the echoes; it was the fall of some forest giant, vanquished by the
hurricane.

Sometimes one might have fancied that a multitude of men were fighting
together in the darkness that no eye could pierce; there were plainly
to be recognized the wild cries of the conflict and the plaintive
moans of the wounded; and then, again, a fresh shock shook the earth
and deadened the outburst of the mighty lament.

Towards midnight the storm abated a little and, giving way to fatigue,
I fell asleep.

I had only just closed my eyes when I suddenly jumped up again,
deafened as if by a hundred claps of thunder joined in one. The
darkness was as thick as ever and the wind was still more boisterous;
the echo of the fallen tree had scarcely died away before another
colossus groaned and fell. My companions were now all awake.

"What's the matter, M. Sumichrast?" asked Lucien, in a low tone.
"It is a hurricane, my boy."
"One might fancy that a giant was passing through the wood, shouting
and whistling and breaking down all the trees as he went along."
"I wish that was all," replied Sumichrast; "but it's something much
worse; it is the south wind, the sirocco of the Mexican coast."
"Will it sweep us away, M. Sumichrast?"
"I hope not; thanks to the rock which shields us."

A tree now fell close to us and covered us with dust.

Clinging tightly to one another, every moment brought with it a fresh
anxiety. We dared not speak of our feelings, for fear of frightening
our young companion, who pressed close up to me. Amidst the universal
destruction going on, it only needed a branch driven by the squall to
dislodge our shelter, for us to be swept away like chaff before the
wind. I had witnessed many a hurricane but this fearful night exceeded
all.

At last daylight appeared; the sun rose gloomily and exposed the
disasters of the terrible night. On every side trees, broken and
uprooted, lay prostrate on the ground, or, half suspended by the
creepers entangled in their branches, were balanced like the
formidable battering-rams of the ancients.

A sudden cracking noise was heard and another forest giant slowly bent
over and, describing a rapid curve, crushed its branches against the
ground; ten seconds destroyed the work of centuries.

L'Encuerado attempted to go two or three yards beyond our rock; but,
surprised by a sudden gust, he had but just time to throw himself
prostrate on the ground to prevent being swept away. Something,
however, had to be done; it was no use trying to light a fire and yet,
after yesterday's fast and a sleepless night, we felt great need of
some comforting beverage.

The squalls gradually abated but were still every now and then
violent. Intervals of profound silence succeeded to the uproar of the
storm, when the leaves were motionless; then we might have fancied the
tempest was over. But suddenly the frightful roar again commenced and
the gale covered the ground with fresh fragments.

We were beginning to take courage a little, when a formidable crash
resounded above us; an enormous pine, growing on the mountain a
hundred feet over our heads, tottered and then fell, tumbling down the
slope with a horrible uproar. Quick as lightning, l'Encuerado seized
Lucien and lay down with him along the foot of the rock; I and my
friend immediately followed his example.

The fallen giant came crashing down in rapid bounds, smashing every
thing in its path and accompanied in its descent by masses of broken
rock. It struck against the block that sheltered us, which gave forth
a dull sound but fortunately resisted the shock; and then the tree,
clearing the obstacle with a prodigious bound, continued its impetuous
course down to the foot of the mountain. We were nearly crushed by a
perfect avalanche of stones which followed in its wake.

The hurricane now subsided; but it was likely enough to redouble its
intensity at night and reason dictated that we should take advantage
of the calm for moving onward. The heat, which continued to
inconvenience us, rendered walking a very laborious effort. The lips
of our young companion were all cracked and he spoke with difficulty.
We suffered dreadfully from thirst; but it was necessary to bear it
patiently and to be very saving with the small stock of water which
still remained in our gourds.

Soon we came upon the spot where, an hour before, the tree had stood,
the fall of which had so nearly crushed us. A widely gaping hole
exposed to our view the broken roots of the colossus and the earth
round them was already dry. We pushed on with much difficulty,
exhausted, out of breath and half famished; for, since the night
before, we had eaten nothing but some morsels of maize-cake. Moreover,
our eyes were so red and swollen that we were perfectly disfigured.

In spite of all our exertions, we made little or no advance and a
profuse perspiration added to our exhaustion. Fortunately, every thing
seemed to indicate that the tempest was over. L'Encuerado led the way;
his manner appeared as if searching for something. At length I saw him
throw down his load and plunge into the thicket. Soon he reappeared,
with his hands full of a kind of mulberry, the fruit of the
sarsaparilla, the acid flavour of which much revived Lucien.

We resumed our march in much better spirits, thanks to this God-send.
L'Encuerado filled his cap with them and walked on bravely, with his
head bare. Another half-hour's climbing brought us to the verge of the
forest.

The hour was now approaching at which we feared that the hurricane
would recommence with redoubled violence; so it became highly
necessary to select a spot for our bivouac. Moss and lichens here
covered the rocks with a variegated carpet and, in proportion as we
ascended the mountain, the cooler air relieved our lungs. At length
our ascent came to an end and we found ourselves on a plateau dotted
over with stunted shrubs, distorted and twisted with the winds and
storms.

Fresh summits rose in front of us but they were too far off to cause
us any fear. Sumichrast halted near three gigantic stones, placed so
as to leave a space between them, in which we could encamp, as if in a
fortress.

This spot we selected for our bivouac. The wind still blew in squalls
but the increased clearing of the atmosphere gave us reason to hope
that we should have nothing more to fear from the hurricane. We all
went in search of firewood and ere long after were enlivened by the
gleam of an immense fire.

At sunset, the glittering beams of the sun's very last rays reached
our camp. The sky was blue and the air was fresh, so I abandoned the
idea of returning home. Night came on, a fine rain purified the air
and the damp earth breathed forth a wholesome fragrance. Overcome by
fatigue, we wrapped ourselves up in our serapes and soon fell into a
sound sleep.

++++++

Aimed for children and Dawlish, the book is free to all comers. I was
culling it for relevant data such as where and when but it suffers
badly in translation.

Philip Eden wrote:
Absolutely stunning sequence of colours here in south Beds ...
yellow, gold, pink, crimson, deep salmon, and now
nectarine.

Reminiscent of those sunsets in Feb 2008.

Philip



spaceweather.com make a mention of this sunset today and have a link to
this Optics Picture of the Day article...

http://www.atoptics.co.uk/fz372.htm

....due to Polar Stratospheric Clouds probably.