Not, as it happens, the Jimi Hendrix song, good though it is. Nope, this evening I had the good fortune for my drive home from the salt mines to coincide almost exactly with sunset and moonrise. My route takes me north along the Hohokam Expressway (the nearest thing to a freeway I'm prepared to drive on here in Arizona). To the left is Phoenix Sky Harbour Airport, to the right a vast expanse with a mountain range in the middle distance, sharp edges revealing their geological youth.
This time of year at that time of night a gentle purple haze settles to the east. Let's not dwell on it's likely provenance; sufficient for now is that it has it's own beauty. And, to crown the beauty, there, just grazing the mountain tops, was the full moon, many shaded, bloated, aircraft on their landing approach dotting the sky around with untwinkling lights. It was quite the struggle to concentrate on speeding traffic instead of gazing my fill.
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