Why Is the Sky Blue?

 

December 27, 2025 - Quivira National Wildlife Refuge - Little Salt Marsh

Once upon a time ... long, long ago, I was in charge of Kansas State Fair coverage for The Hutchinson News. I practically lived at the fairgrounds during its 10-day September run. In fact, I stayed one night in the 4-H Encampment Building for a story, also walking down to the livestock barn to visit with fair entrants who were snoozing overnight there with their cattle. So, I guess I did "live" at the fair that day and night.

The fair established an office for print journalists adjacent to the KWCH-TV studios. Of course, we print journalists were the ones behind the scenes. The TV anchors were schmoozing with their fans at the open air studio next door. 

I'd write my stories and send them electronically back to The News.  Then, I'd wander around the fairgrounds looking for other ideas. On one of those strolls through the Commercial Building, I had the idea of talking to the people who traveled from state fair to state fair, trying to sell knives, pots and pans, magazine subscriptions, windows or any number of consumer goods. 

 

A persistent encyclopedia "hawker" asked me an important question: "How will you answer your child's question, 'Why is the sky blue?' "

Besides being a newspaper reporter and editor, I was also a mom to a toddler at the time. So the question did make me think - then and throughout the years as both Jill and Brent asked their share of difficult questions.

Thankfully, I resisted the urge to pony up the big bucks for an enormous set of encyclopedias, which would have become an expensive set of paperweights and flower pressers in these days of push-button technology and information.  

Nowadays, when you type "Why are winter sunrises and sunsets more colorful?" you get an AI overview that condenses the answer:

Winter sunrises and sunsets are so colorful because the sun is lower in the sky, light travels through more of the atmosphere, scattering blues and leaving reds/oranges, and the air is often cleaner, drier and contains fewer particles (like humidity and haze) that would normally mute colors, allowing longer wavelengths to shine through move vividly. Cooler, drier air, combined with specific clouds, enhances these vibrant displays. 

And, if that's not enough to satisfy your curiosity, there are plenty of other articles to explore - all with a simple click on the links. 

No matter the science behind the colorful sky, there have been plenty of opportunities to enjoy the unique masterpieces of the Kansas sky in winter - even on unseasonably warm December nights like we found at Quivira on December 27. 

 

It's also a tradition for me to take a photo of the final sunset of a year. The photos below were from New Year's Eve 2025:

December 31, 2025

 

I do the same for the first sunrise of a new year. 

January 1, 2026

But it doesn't have to be New Year's Eve or New Year's Day for me to take the short drive away from my tree-lined farmstead to take in the beauty. 

January 7, 2026, sunrise, back at the sunrise tree

January 7, 2026

January 7, 2026

January 7, 2026

Every day and every sky is different and another opportunity to glory in God's masterpieces - His bookends to the day. 

Sunset, January 5, 2026

And for that, I am thankful - no matter the reasons why. 

Sunset, January 5, 2026

 

The sky is the daily bread of the eyes.

 ~Ralph Waldo Emerson

Transfiguration

Last Wednesday morning - Valentine's Day - I worked on a future blog post. It combined sunset photos and a few light-on-ice photos from Quivira National Wildlife Refuge that hadn't yet made it into the blog or my Facebook page. On that Ash Wednesday, the blog post also had a tie-in to the transfiguration of Jesus, which was the Scripture and theme for Pastor Benjamin's sermon the previous week. 

I was happy with it and thought it was a fitting beginning to the season of Lent in the Christian year. I hadn't written a devotional-type blog for awhile, and as I went upstairs to work on dinner prep, I thought that it would only take a re-read and a little polishing before I hit "publish" the next Tuesday. 

But then Wednesday afternoon happened. The senseless shooting in the midst of celebration of the Kansas City Chiefs victory parade - plus some personal stuff - had me tossing and turning that night. Eventually, I gave up and got out of bed, attempting to find a way to shut off my overactive brain. It was a short night. My well-articulated Thursday morning list was in disarray with other unexpected distractions. 

So much for planning ahead. So, why not do a little mindless Facebook skimming, right? I was behind anyway. And then I clicked on a link provided by an acquaintance from my days in K-State's Concert Choir. On her post, she shared that she'd linked this same choir piece to her Facebook page four years before, and unfortunately, it was relevant yet again. 

The piece is Let My Love Be Heard by Jake Runestad. It was performed by the Bob Cole Conservatory Chamber Choir as a tribute to one of their members killed in a mass shooting in Paris in 2015. (I actually wrote a blog post back in November 2015 about the Paris shooting, too, with a link to another song. (Click HERE for "God Bless Us Every One.")

The words to Jake Runestad's beautiful choral composition say:

Angels where you soar up to God's own light

Take my own lost bird on your hearts tonight

And as grief once more mounts to heaven and sings

Let my love be heard

Let my love be heard

Whispering in your ways

Let my love be heard. 

 

As I sat there with tears running down my face, I realized that perhaps my Facebook skimming wasn't so pointless after all. 

 

The simple - yet overwhelmingly powerful - words of that song preached a more powerful lesson than any blog post. Or any sermon. 

Let my love be heard.

 

I certainly try for that to happen. I spent the rest of the day on Thursday working on a meal for Core, a group works to help get people out of poverty. Our church is just one of the meal providers, taking our turn about once a quarter or so. While I was the planner and the cook, many congregation members contributed money for the ingredients to make it happen. 

 

And I remembered back to the Sunday before, when I'd taken a photo of the children at church, standing by a big pile of food donated for the local food bank as part of a Souper Food Drive on Super Bowl Sunday. 

 

Our little church collected 249 pounds of food, but we were just a tiny cog in a much larger effort for the church conference. Some 84 churches from the Great Plains UMC donated food to help Team KC collect 168,253.66 pounds of food during the Super Bowl drive. The California churches supporting the San Francisco 49ers collected 32,945 pounds. In all, 221 churches across the four conferences took part.

 

That's a victory for local food banks - no matter where the food was tallied. We couldn't accomplish that alone.

But I also had to acknowledge that I wasn't letting "my love be heard" when I commented to Randy about another acquaintance's Facebook post.

I can do better. We can all do better. 

 

I need to be part of the harmony so beautifully illustrated by that spectacular choir. 

I started writing. I changed 90 percent of what I had in the original blog post. But then I looked again at what I'd written to begin with. It included this quote on Jesus' transfiguration written by Scott Clark, a Presbyterian minister. 

 

Transfiguration brings us to the place where the words run out and invites us into the holy experience of silence. The silence between the words. The place where we meet God in ways that words simply cannot express.  

Another shooting? Yes, definitely the words had run out. 

Another email devotional included this prayer:

May our gifts reflect the warming light of your love in our lives. Just as Jesus was transfigured before them, may our hearts be transformed, and our actions reflect the love and truth Jesus embodies. Bless our giving and use it to bring your divine light to a world in need. In the name of Jesus, our Lord, we pray. Amen.

Looking for God in my today ... that seems like a good goal to me.

  

Kansas is Closed

Taken Friday, January 5, 2024

It's been awhile since we were all that interested in the cancellations banner, running at the bottom of the local news. Back when Jill and Brent were home, that's the way we discovered if school had been canceled for the day due to snow.

 

Today, we were supposed to have an important appointment with Mrs. Kylie Meyer's second grade class at Stafford Elementary School. As I was writing this Monday afternoon, I imagined that I'd be perched in front of my TV screen Tuesday morning, watching the cancellation notices. 

 

But, in this day and age, I learned via Facebook last night that school was canceled for today. So, Farming: Then and Now - as told by Randy and Kim Fritzemeier - will have to wait for another day.

 

 

It seems that Kansas is closed today for all intents and purposes. But, I also know that those who care for cattle and other livestock will be out there, still getting the job done. (I won't miss climbing into the feed truck today like I used to do. My brother already sent a photo of feeding cattle this morning. Tye and Todd also moved some hay bales to our farm yard before the storm ever started.) I know electric crews, road crews, law enforcement officers, health care workers and lots of others have been hard at work in terrible conditions.

 

 

Back to our school gig: Every year, Mrs. Meyer does a similar unit. She invites different businesses and organizations to talk to her students. The class spends some time doing research at the Stafford County Museum. Besides learning a little local history, the students also learn about contrast and comparison and other cross-disciplinary concepts. 

 

Several years ago, I developed a Power Point presentation using photos that my mom and dad compiled in a family history book they made for each of their grandchildren. Those helped provide the "then" part of farming. And, truth be told, both Randy and I have plenty of "then" stories of our own from our time growing up on our respective family farms. Besides the old-time photos, I added lots of photos from our own farming operation. 

 

When we do get to go to school, Randy says he'll tell the students about the snow days of our youth. I know they didn't happen often. And, as I've thought about, I remember a time when the roads were drifted shut. My dad took us the 3 1/2 miles to school at Byers, driving across farm fields. And the dress code was different back then, too. If we girls wore pants, we still had to wear a dress over it. Man, I really am old!

 

Taken after sunset on Monday, January 8, 2024. Yard light on the windmill in our backyard.

 

A disclaimer: All the photos in this blog post except the one immediately above were taken last Friday. We got some snow then, too, but we didn't have the wind to go with it. 

 

 

Photos from the latest storm will have to wait.

 

 

But last Friday, we had a much kinder, gentler exposure to winter. 

 

 

So Randy and I spent some time in the yard and then drove around for our own version of Eyewitness Weather.

 

 

The wind that is usually so prevalent in Kansas seemed bedded down for a long winter's nap .. or, at least it was taking the day off. (It was back with a vengeance yesterday and today.)

The only other living thing we saw at Quivira National Wildlife Refuge was a deer, who didn't seem particularly concerned about intruders to his domain.

I wish this was better focus ...

We were surprised not to see or hear any birds on the refuge at that time.

I'll probably get some photos of this latest snow at some point. But, then again, maybe I'll read my book for awhile.

Scenes from The County Line

Hey, it's the Lone Ranger. 

Nope, he had a friend or two. 

These two "bandits" were hanging out in the trees near Peace Creek Sunday evening. They didn't stay long enough to visit before skeedaddling up an old tree and hiding in the upper branches. 

On first glance, they are pretty cute, but the rascals can cause some damage. They steal food from the cat bowls. For awhile, they didn't think we were offering a large enough buffet at the Fritzemeier Farm feed trough. They were bound and determined to get into the wash house to help themselves to the food. They were pulling wood planks off the wash house, so it's still hard to be hospitable to scoundrels that make such a mess (though these particular individuals were probably innocent).

 

They weren't the only wildlife on our drive. While at the Rattlesnake Pasture, we could hear the coyotes vocalizing before their nighttime serenade. The Rocky Mountain beeplant made for some pretty scenery shots.

 

After driving through our pasture, we took a detour home through Quivira National Wildlife Refuge.

The light was just right to capture these two birds and their reflections.

The duck wanted in on the scene.

 

 

The setting sun seemed to be reflected in the goldenrod near the kids' fishing pond, so abundant at this time of year. 

 

The temperature may not reflect fall yet, but the colors are trying to convince us. The milo field across from the house is turning, getting ready for harvest.

It was almost like the colors of the sky were reflected in the ripening field.