I find each season adds its own mood and ... melody of colour, if that makes sense. The long gentle pink-mauve-lilac-purple-indigo twilight of spring probably touches me most closely; it feels somehow poignant.
I would include the artistry of sunrise, especially as I live in a hilly region where shadows form in unpredictable patterns. As we drive along the highway, the world changes from moment to moment.
(I do love that picture! I wish you could hang it in your bedroom: the palette is just right.)

The larches turn gold;/ another year is ending, / sunsets burn brightly

I would include the artistry of sunrise, especially as I live in a hilly region where shadows form in unpredictable patterns. — Vera Mont

I can imagine that beautiful perspective. If you live in a hilly region, the colours and shadows of nature are more authentic, and they are not interrupted by the surroundings of the city.

I do love that picture! — Vera Mont

I have never seen that painting by Van Gogh until today! I was looking for autumn paintings, and the most recommended by Google art.

The larches turn gold;/ another year is ending, / sunsets burn brightly — Vera Mont

Good! Exquisite! Gorgeous! Is this poem yours? :smile:

Yes: we were going into town one morning. Larches are my favourite tree and they're magnificent in October. Almost bare now.

Larches are my favourite tree and they're magnificent in October. — Vera Mont

They are very beautiful tree. Its leaves turn into gold and ochre colours, creating an artistic overview.

Almost bare now. — Vera Mont

And then, yes, this is one of the main issues. When the trees start to get bare because winter is approaching... I don't mind when trees get bared and the leaves are on the floor. It gives another mood. I would say, melancholy.

All moods are artistically interesting (even anger, but I don't much like those colours) Melancholy has certainly given a good deal of material to poets and composers.
For me, there is a particularly sad association with weeping willows - my late mother's favourite tree.

Van Gogh was especially attracted to cypresses and olives, presumably because of their visual drama. I've thought about how and when we form these attachments to a particular tree. In my mother's case, she grew up by a river fringed with willows and spent many happy hours in their shade, before WWII altered her life and her world. I saw my first larch at 14, when we bought a little property in rural Ontario. I was captivated by their gentleness compared to the pines and spruces they resemble, their silence and their changes of colour over the season.

I agree, and thanks for sharing your story and your mother's on the named rural property in Ontario. I personally feel attached to two kinds of trees: elms. We have numerous of this species in Madrid and a few in a rural plot in Toledo. We feel that attached to this tree that even one of the name of my dogs with 'olmo' - Elm but in Spanish - who passed away in 2017 sadly, and we buried him near to elms. On the other hand, I also feel attached to cherry trees due to my passion for Japanese culture. We have some a few in a local park, but they are far from being as pretty as the ones which are in Tokyo. When I see a cherry tree flourishing, I understand why Japanese poets were inspired in their haikus. It is an exquisite tree. It looks even fragile to me, with those pink or white colours.

On the other hand, I also feel attached to cherry trees due to my passion for Japanese culture — javi2541997

I had an inkling from that story I liked so much.
We have some elms in the fence-line of our property, but they're all dying. We've had to cut two down before they fell on the greenhouse. It's a beautiful hard wood, even in death.

A few years ago, I heard from a girl who is a mathematician - that the sunset doesn't have any poetical nor artistic vibe, and it is a concept of astronomy. — javi2541997

Please don't assume mathematicians are like this in general. Among then you will find musicians and artists. We are not bean counters. :cool:

She might have very little poetry in her soul... or perhaps she's just very young and earnest and has not yet discovered that you can have both scientific rigour and aesthetic awareness.
I'm sad for people who don't appreciate beauty or humour - they're missing the best of life on this planet; I always hope they'll wake from their coma.

Please don't assume mathematicians are like this in general. Among then you will find musicians and artists. We are not bean counters. :cool: — jgill

I agree. Sorry for being so generic, it is true that amongst mathematicians, there also some who like art, poetry, literature as much as science. Like you, jgill, for instance. The first thing that I thought about this girl was that she was a bit arrogant, but maybe she was just trying to explain the scientific reason for the sunset.

she's just very young and earnest and has not yet discovered that you can have both scientific rigour and aesthetic awareness. — Vera Mont

We were very young, indeed. This happened around 2015 and the students of our campus were in the first year of our careers, so we were between 18 and 19 years old. Maybe, she is a different woman after 8 years...

Larches are my favourite tree and they're magnificent in October. Almost bare now. — Vera Mont

Van Gogh was especially attracted to cypresses and olives, presumably because of their visual drama. I've thought about how and when we form these attachments to a particular tree. In my mother's case, she grew up by a river fringed with willows and spent many happy hours in their shade, before WWII altered her life and her world. I saw my first larch at 14, when we bought a little property in rural Ontario. I was captivated by their gentleness compared to the pines and spruces they resemble, their silence and their changes of colour over the season. — Vera Mont

elms — javi2541997

cherry trees — javi2541997

I'm using all this as an excuse to write about trees I like...

My favourite kind of tree is the pine. It's partly to do with the beautiful coastal pine forests of the Mediterranean, which I experienced at about ten years old on holiday in Catalonia and never forgot. Later I found similar forests along the cote d'azur, in Turkey, and other spots around the Mediterranean. In my thirties I started hiking and discovered what's left of the Caledonian forests in the Highlands of my native Scotland, and then had some special moments sheltering under umbrella pines in Rome. More recently, I had a couple of big sprawling pine trees in my garden in Spain, which harboured a small ecosystem of beasts and birds.

I also like holm oaks, maybe because I only discovered them in 2016. I had not known that evergreen oak trees existed, then in January that year I went for a hike in the mountains behind Nice and walked for hours through forests of oak trees that, to my surprise, still had their leaves. Also very common in Spain, mostly non-existent in more Northern regions.

Beech trees I like because my childhood was spent roaming beech woods. Beech forests are particularly beautiful and I think of them as quintessentially Northern European--the perfect setting for Celtic myths and other such spookiness--but europeanbeechforests.org tells me they're also very common in Italy, the Balkans, and other parts of Southern and Eastern Europe.

Other top trees: horse-chestnut, birch, and cedar (both the Cedrus of Eurasia and the western cedars of British Columbia).

Both November and December provide us with very gorgeous sunsets in the afternoons of our cities, neighbourhoods, parks, etc. — javi2541997

I think I'm more of a sunrise man :grin: But I love that VvG painting, which I hadn't seen before.

I'm using all this as an excuse to write about trees I like...

My favourite kind of tree is the pine. It's partly to do with the beautiful coastal pine forests of the Mediterranean, which I experienced at about ten years old on holiday in Catalonia and never forgot. — Jamal

Pines are beautiful trees too, and I understand your reference to Mediterranean forests. When I was a kid, I used to go to Guardamar on holidays and there was a big fine forest. It has passed ten years since the last time I went to Guardamar, and I only hope that the pine forest is still conserved as much as I remember.

More recently, I had a couple of big sprawling pine trees in my garden in Spain, which harboured a small ecosystem of beasts and birds. — Jamal

:up:

I don't have a garden specifically, because I live in the average building with flats, but in the yard we have willows. They get very beautiful in autumn. Surprisingly, we have one palm tree, and I don't understand why it can survive in the weather and environment of Madrid.

I think I'm more of a sunrise man :grin: — Jamal

Ha! I am the opposite. I love rainy, cloudy and dark days. I remember one day, I was in the pharmacy, and it was raining so heavily, and then I shouted: Madrid looks so poetic and beautiful in days like these!!! And the people observe like I were a crazy folk

There was a traveling exhibit of Turner paintings at our local art gallery some years ago. It lasted a month and we went into town five or six times, just to see it again. Reproductions are all very well... but, oh, how I'd like a chance to visit the Tate!



There is a certain magic about pine trees. When I was ten, we spent some eight months in Ireland, in a military base. It had along one perimeter a triple row of great tall scotch pines. Easy to climb, a deep cushion of brown needles on the floor in case you fall, and you never quite get the resin or the scent out of your clothes. To my little gang of outlaws, that was Sherwood Forest. It was a time and place out of real life; an interval of total, joyous freedom. Thanks for reminding me!

It's not a sunset, but worth looking at: today's astronomy picture. https://apod.nasa.gov/apod/astropix.html

Wow! It is a gorgeous photo, that mallow colour is perfect and stunning. It is amazing how nature shares its privilege of being beautiful with us.

The link provided by @Vera Mont is absolutely awesome, and there are pictures that I never seen until today. What a good discovery! Thanks, Vera. I randomly searched for a picture and I chose the following, because it was the one which impressed me the most.

December 17, 1999. The Hydra A galaxy cluster is really big. In fact, such clusters of galaxies are the largest gravitationally bound objects in the Universe. But individual galaxies are too cool to be recorded in this false-color Chandra Observatory X-ray image which shows only the 40 million degree gas that permeates the Hydra A cluster.

I have two big books of astronomy photos that I've used as models for paintings for my SO's office wall. (He's a physicist and big fan of Carl Sagan). Nebulae are especially stunning.

when I appreciate the sunset of my city I want to cry. This crying is not a cause of sadness, but the sublime artistic sense of the sunset. — javi2541997

Beautiful sunset. It doesn't make me feel like crying, but I smile whenever an explosion of crimson/salmon color so low that it's literally a backdrop of an otherwise plain road and buildings stops me in the middle of the road.

My favourite kind of tree is the pine. — Jamal

Good choice!

sprawling pine trees in my garden in Spain — Jamal

I've seen this done in the front yard of an apartment building. The landscaper literally trained 3 pine trees to grow lying down then curving upward. You've got to have a lot of space for this. lol.

birch, and cedar — Jamal

They're mesmerizing.

but I smile whenever an explosion of crimson/salmon color so low that it's literally a backdrop of an otherwise plain road and buildings stops me in the middle of the road. — L'éléphant

Exactly! You described it perfectly, and better than me. Your text is very poetic. I wanted to share a similar feeling this week in this thread, but I forgot it. When I get out of the building I work and study in, it is around 17:30 pm or even 18:00. The sun is in the last moments of the day, and it reflects coloured ochre rays in the windows of the building. It gives me a sweet feeling of melancholia.

On the other hand, there is also a good view at the parks. The sunlight rays make shadows on the silhouette of the trees. Ah, very poetic and artistic.

Not surprising, then, they figure so largely in painting and literature.

When I get out of the building I work and study in, it is around 17:30 pm or even 18:00. The sun is in the last moments of the day, — javi2541997

I cannot always leave the building in time so that I am there to witness the explosion. It's a grand show, no tickets needed.

Not surprising, then, they figure so largely in painting and literature. — Vera Mont

The break of dawn is equally beautiful. I actually prefer the break of dawn, but for this, you need to have an unobstructed view of the mountain.

I cannot always leave the building in time so that I am there to witness the explosion. It's a grand show, no tickets needed. — L'éléphant

Not surprising, then, they figure so largely in painting and literature. — Vera Mont

I am happy to share my admiration of sunset with you, mates. I knew there would be members who would appreciate this gift from nature. I had to go to a mortuary yesterday. It is far from the centre of Madrid, and it is located in a zone where you can see all the sky, no buildings interrupt. The mortuary started at 16:00, and I left around 18:05, when the sky started to become a blurred orange and purple colour. I regret not taking a photo...

Are you studying pathology?
The sky is never the same on a small photograph. On a cinema screen, not bad.
You kind of reminded me to give more play to sunsets in the novel I've just started. Before, I was a little preoccupied with sunrise; this one takes place in the north-west of England - lots of hills and water, and no city lights. I wish I could go there to see what the light is actually like, but will have to settle for pictures. Don't we just love Google?

Are you studying pathology? — Vera Mont

No, I am a lawyer, and I am eventually studying to become a land registrar. I studied law at university between 2015 - 2019. :smile:

You kind of reminded me to give more play to sunsets in the novel I've just started. — Vera Mont

I hope this basic and little thread gives you some inspiration for your novels or writings - if you are considering writing a new one! -

this one takes place in the north-west of England - lots of hills and water, and no city lights. I wish I could go there to see what the light is actually like, but will have to settle for pictures. Don't we just love Google? — Vera Mont

I agree! Google Maps and Images are one of the best inventions ever. Thanks to these, I am able to see Japanese landscapes which I will never see in real life, probably...

Just as I certainly will never see Cumbria. Or Oceania, where some of my last novel took place. The satellite images are priceless!

Before, I was a little preoccupied with sunrise; this one takes place in the north-west of England - lots of hills and water, and no city lights. I wish I could go there to see what the light is actually like, but will have to settle for pictures. — Vera Mont

I can confirm. My best stargazing experience was in the Lake District, floating face-up in Derwent Water some time after midnight in the summer of 99.

:starstruck:
Mind you, some parts of rural Ontario are none too shabby, either. There is a little observatory north of Wiarton, where some great summer skies are to be seen ... if you don't mind being eaten alive by mosquitoes.
We live on the east side of a highway, facing the sunset over fields - not bad - with thickly wooded low hills behind us. Not much for sunrises, but I saw a moonrise once (c1999) that almost had me calling out the fire department, it looked so much like the start of a forest fire.

Mind you, some parts of rural Ontario are none too shabby, either. There is a little observatory north of Wiarton, where some great summer skies are to be seen ... if you don't mind being eaten alive by mosquitoes.
We live on the east side of a highway, facing the sunset over fields - not bad - with thickly wooded low hills behind us. Not much for sunrises, but I saw a moonrise once (c1999) that almost had me calling out the fire department, it looked so much like the start of a forest fire. — Vera Mont

Both rural Ontario and the moonrise sound great. I think I might want to live in the country one day myself. If it was one of those massive orange moonrises that catches you unawares and takes your breath away, yeah, I love those. But I've seldom seen it precisely as it was rising above the horizon; usually there are things in the way.

In our case, tall pine trees. In late September sometimes, that enormous harvest moon rises up out of the forest, quite slowly at first, majestically, then recedes as it ascends the sky. That year, it was a dark orange-red, and bigger than usual. I've never seen another one like it.
Once in a while, when conditions are favourable, we get a glimpse of the Northern Lights sometime in October.
From now till March, though, it's just brief restrained sunsets and no sunrise at all - by the time I wake up, there is a diffuse cold grey light with no character at all. Today, it seem to be persisting all day. Beats freezing rain, I guess, but the solar panels are hungry.

a diffuse cold grey light with no character at all — Vera Mont

I tend to call that "Scottish weather" but I guess it's not unique to us.