Growing up in central, western Ohio (very close to 40*N, 84*W), the horizon line was always far, far away. The only things blocking my view then was a Maple tree, the town's water tower, and a few neighboring houses. I was mostly surrounded by alternating fields of corn and soybeans.
From my perspective now (very close to 45*N, 110*W), the sun travels behind Mount Republic at 1:38 p.m. today. It's not that it gets dark then, that happens shortly after 4 p.m. like everywhere else on the 45*N parallel--halfway between the equator and the North Pole. When you live this close to these majestic mountains, they tend to screw with the line where the earth meets the sky in the most beautiful ways! The mountains act as huge gnomens--you know, the finger on a sun-dial--casting their blue shadows across this place I now call home.
From my perspective now (very close to 45*N, 110*W), the sun travels behind Mount Republic at 1:38 p.m. today. It's not that it gets dark then, that happens shortly after 4 p.m. like everywhere else on the 45*N parallel--halfway between the equator and the North Pole. When you live this close to these majestic mountains, they tend to screw with the line where the earth meets the sky in the most beautiful ways! The mountains act as huge gnomens--you know, the finger on a sun-dial--casting their blue shadows across this place I now call home.