CDStill

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Wildlife smoke continues to leave a haze at sunrise. Stamford-Darien border. 5:50-6:05am

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Birds of a feather….

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Common Tern doing its best Blue Angels impression. Coming in HOT!

6:00am Holly Pond-Stamford, CT

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Twilight on the island. Stamford, CT

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Deer in headlights. (viacarad1016)

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Back away slowly and no one will get hurt!

Raccoon playing hide and seek. 4:00am

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Sun under the influence of heavy wildfire smoke.

Friday July 17th 5:45-5:55am

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Here comes the ☀️.

Smoke from the Canadian wildfires continues to impact the Rise.

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Pink Sky Morning.

Stamford-Darien Waters Edge

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Swan Lake. Holly Pond. 6:05am

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Goodnight ☀️ 7:30pm Stamford, CT

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Now you see her….. now you don’t.

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7:45am from my back deck. 5 minutes and she was gone! Canadian wildfire smoke filling the morning skies. Stamford, CT

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This weather is for the birds.

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Canadian Wildfire smoke and orange haze continues to cover Cove Island at twilight.

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Smoke from the Canadian Wildfires making the ☀️ work overtime to shine.

Wednesday July 15th 2:55pm

Great Island-Darien, CT

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Twilight to Sunrise

I close the front door behind me and step out into the predawn morning. I try to carve more hours into the day by slipping out before the world is awake. I am ostensibly making my way to work, roughly six miles to the south, but somehow, I’m walking in precisely the opposite direction. Since I’ve begun these walks, I’ve discovered an irresistible vantage point from which to see the day begin: a clifftop above Natural Bridges State Beach. I walk-race the half mile and arrive in the still-dark. Settling into a patch of ice plant, I gulp first light and sea air greedily, like a drink of water after thirst. Waiting for the sun, I resist the urge to lift my hands and conduct its rising. Instead, I sit quietly and observe the world around this place, which comes to life slowly, deliberately: in shifting clouds that rearrange brilliant rays as the light curves over the horizon and spills buckets of color across the sky. It astounds me that before these walks I had never given much notice to the sun or the moon, nor felt their welkin masterpieces etching my eyes. The beauty is too much to bear alone. I want to call a friend. But it dawns on me that they have all likely already noticed that the sun rises and sets. I save myself the awkwardness of rousing someone from a dead sleep to say, “Um, hi. The sun rose again!”

— Angelica Glass, Scavenging Beauty: A Memoir in Walks (Riverhead Books, July 7, 2026)

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My truth.

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Breakfast for the Great Blue Heron.

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Stamford, CT