Iron County register., 1920-04-29
An Ozark Sunset.

An Ozark sunset is thus beautifully
portrayed by Chas. Simpson Handy
In the Rolla Herald: "Let him who
loves western window take it with
him to the Ozarks. Human eyes need
not the painters art to be ravished
with the rapture of an Ozark sunset.
But why put the limitations of a win
bow frame upon the sublimity of a
sunset? What more exquisite than to
look from boundless hill peaks upon
the rainbow easel of western sun
fires?. It is truly invigorating to
climb crag, determined to drink the
red wine of the decliniug day. But
my entire self of sense is stirred, as
with the swift stab of tempered steel,
when the sunset chambers in at my
western window unannounced. The
first Cardinal startles US. The very
first violet seems to leap out upon us
from subterranean caverns of flame
and fancy. The wonders of the west
ern skies must spring unheralded up
on you through a western window,
after which your exchequer of aes-
thetic experience will have been ex-
ceedingly enriched. The skies of a
March day we're mottled to murkiness.
The late afternoon was dim, requiring
the service of the electric lamp
above my desk. The tap and drip of
a chill rain made the study fire seem
very, very snug. Without a sug-
gestion of warning, the dams of a
drab day we're broken Though, and
a tropical riot of radiance burst in at
my western window. Momentarily
stupefied, l sprang to the caserue Mt
to gather in the scenic rapture. A
swift survey found everywhere but
west, leaden sky. But out there be-
fore me was beaming bolt of gold.
1t was lavish liquid gold. The bril-
lance of it did not dazzle like burn
ished brass. The fire of it did not
blaze like autocratic bronze. A base
of turquoise rested roughly on the
brown horizon. Upon this pedestal
had been poured the molten mass,
within a circlet of pearl gray clouds,
scanned with ribbons of ruby, stream
ing lines of lavendar hoated back
ward toward the deep horizon, the
lanes of lurid lava stretching to no
great distances on right and left.
Only once before do l remember so
to have seen the setting sun so rich,
so ripe, and mellow. Riding by rail
out of New Orleans almost two years
ago, we passed Lake Ponchartrain.
The sun was on the level of the lake.
The disappearing disc looking like
golden yacht anchoring in some near
horizon harbor. Drifting westward,
the cleaning vessel had transfgured
the waters, leaving a wake of wen
der. The priceless argosy had pow
dered the waves of Ponchartrain with
the wealth of the setting sun. The
galvanic glory which invaded my
western window was virile volume
of Revelation. My sight of human
sense, so called, looked on the visible
flood of splendor. Meanwhile I, with
inward eyes, saw the infinite reservoir
of radiance from which the tawny
amber had burst upon the Ozark
skies. Though seen but briefly and
with earthdimmed eyes, it was clearly
apparent that such luminous luster
was neither temporary nor temporal.
The wonder of my western window
interprets the deathless dawn of
Easter. Henceforth l shall better
understand the expulsive irradation
which transfigured the Man of Gal
lice upon the mount with Moses and
Elias; pushed back the huge cold
stone from Joseph's garden tomb:
glistened upon the face of Stephen;
electrified the life of Saul of Tarsus;
flooded the ripe soul of the Pat
riarch on Patmos; and perfectly IL
Eliminates, as with fadeless jewels, the
New Jerusalem"