WHEN I FIRST READ ABOUT THE FLASH OF GREEN in a John D. MacDonald novel, I figured it was just more Margaritaville-hype of the “we live Florida and you don’t” variety. Nadia Drake probably felt the same when she wrote in National Geographic:
I never thought I’d see the fabled “green flash.” After decades of squinting toward the evening horizon . . . I’d conceded defeat. In fact, one could say I was a member of team Tanqueray Flash . . . “The only green flash anyone’s ever seen is through the bottom of a Tanqueray bottle,” the author’s father supposedly grumbled at a columnist who’d described the phenomenon in the LA Times. Gin bottles? Those I knew something about. Green sunsets, not so much. But two Sundays ago, as I stood on Kauai’s south shore, the sun defied my expectations and turned green as it dove into an ocean spotted with sea turtles and humpback whales.
Gulf Coast Sunset
While fishing on Sunday afternoon, I thought the cloud bank over the horizon would make a good sunset photo. So around 5:20 I set the post-Thanksgiving turkey soup to simmer, grabbed my camera and hurried to the beach. It wasn’t spectacular as sunsets go but I took several photos as the sun sank into the Gulf.
Pelican and the Sinking Sun
Suddenly, poof, there it was. A flash of green. Or greenish-blue anyway. So now, like the Monkees, I’m a believer. And I have photos!
The Arrow Points the Way
Of course, there’s a scientific explanation for the phenomenon but it delves into physics, optics and other esoteric subjects that just diminish the magic of the moment. So like Trump, we’ll just ignore the science, OK?
