Glimmers by Katherine Emery

The ancient 500 foot rock formations at Vedauwoo recreation area were created by wind, ice, and water. Vedauwoo (an Arapahoe word meaning “land of earthborn spirits”) is about a ten minute drive from the University of Wyoming in Laramie and a favorite stargazing spot. The enormous granite rocks are at an altitude of 8,200 feet, the views from these formations are breathtaking. Overlooking dense pine trees directly below and endless plains under the wide open Wyoming skies, you can see up to seventy miles south. It is a place of profound beauty.

A car was important at the University of Wyoming for weekend trips to ski areas, John Denver concerts in Colorado, and nearby hiking spots. My Mom gave me the family station wagon, a 1971 copper colored Mercury Marquis, an eight passenger behemoth. No roof ski rack was needed, two rows of seats down for skis and poles with plenty of room for passengers. That car was a like an armored tank that could comfortably reach speeds over ninety miles an hour on Wyoming’s pristine, unpopulated highways.

My friends and I would make plans for the weekend while eating dinner in our dorm’s cafeteria. A favorite Friday destination was Vedauwoo, to watch the sun setting. The sky in Wyoming is so big, especially at Vedauwoo, that we felt that we could reach out and touch the universe. Winter snow was rarely a problem, the Mercury had studded snow tires, but most of the snow would blow down to Colorado anyway. We’d park, climb a lower rock and watch the sun become a blazing ball of fire against the purple sky. It wasn’t long after sunset that the stars came out, it was like fireworks on the Fourth of July, we’d ooh and ahhh at every new constellation’s appearance. The piece de resistance was the Milky Way, it truly looked like the Greek myth where the Goddess Hera had sprayed milk across the sky.

While living in Coronado, California, on clear nights in the winter, my small children and I would walk across “the Strand” to catch the sunset. We’d climb to the top of a sand dune and watch the huge orange disk plop into the ocean. Afterwards, we’d lazily slide down the dune, bathed in nautical twilight, the afterglow of the sun below the horizon providing enough golden light to see our way home. The lights from the Naval Amphibious Base would greet us after navigating the darkened beach surroundings.

Waikiki was the perfect spot for sunsets, walking on the beach, the silhouette of Diamond Head in the distance made the energy of the sun setting magical. Driving over the Malkus bridge while the sun sets here in Cambridge is always a gift. The skyline here is different than Wyoming, California, and Hawaii but the sun setting over the Choptank River gives the same vibrant colors and fills my mind with dreams of the stars. My husband and I have spent many beautiful nights star gazing from the hot tub on our deck. Matt learned the constellations as a child from his Navy pilot Dad. We are always thrilled when the stars are clearly visible, but the best was the night a skein (flying) of snow geese flew over with the Big and Little Dippers as a backdrop.

I have been lucky to live my life with the gifts of the sky, nature’s treasures. Every sunset is a memory that made an impact on me, a powerful symbol of closure and renewal. Watching that golden orb gracefully bid farewell to the day allowed me to be fully present in that moment. Years ago, sitting on that dune in Coronado, I didn’t know that I was “grounding” with the earth. The calming effects that the combination of the sand, the ocean, and the sunset had on my children and me were profound, a quiet moment of wonder and joy.

This first week of the New Year I learned a new term, “glimmer.” “Glimmers” are those moments in the day that make you feel joy, peace, happiness, or gratitude. Once you are aware of “glimmers” they will appear more and more. I’m now on the look out for “glimmers.” The surprise snow on Friday evening was a glimmer, I love snow, especially while sitting in our hot tub.