The Green Flash

Ah, the Green Flash - the mystery, the wonder, the quest. After watching decades of sunsets, I finally saw a Green Flash. And, yes, I deem it worthy of capitalization because it is a marvel, like a god, that many pursue and only a few witness. I know the Green Flash is a simple optical refraction phenomenon, not an illusion, but I was still pretty stoked and doubly excited because I was looking through a camera lens and snapped a picture of this rara avis. Now I can prove to friends that this wonder was truly physical and not physiological, psychological, or a figment of a Mai Tai.

We have all heard sailors and old timers wax on about the beauty of the Green Flash; they say it is a brilliant emerald color not seen in any artist’s palette. I always assumed that the people who claimed to see it fell into one of several categories: those who habitually see pink elephants; those who have stared at the sun so long they have destroyed the retinal rods that transmit any color other than green; and those who lie about what they have seen in order to score deference, dates, or drinks.

From a scientist’s perspective, the Green Flash is a phenomenon due to the dispersion of atmospheric refraction. As the sun drops below the horizon, the shorter wavelength green light has a longer refractive delay and hence is the last to disappear - which is really a good thing if you like Green Flashes. Now the astute reader will be saying, “But blue is an even shorter wavelength than green so why don’t we get a blue flash?” The very short wavelength blue light of the setting sun is scattered away by air molecules and aerosol particles before it gets to your eye. That’s why the sky is blue.

From a nonscientific perspective, observing Green Flashes is a result of people relaxing and watching the sunset regularly enough that they get treated to a nonpareil vision - sort of the visual equivalent of stopping to smell the roses.

Jules Verne was so enamored by the Green Ray, as he called it, that he wrote the novel Le Rayon Verte, a story of people traveling to Scotland in quest of the Green Flash. At the end of his novel, they prevail. Verne’s description¹ of the event is:

Motionless, and with intense excitement, they watched the fiery globe  as it sank  nearer and nearer the horizon, and,  for  an   instant,  hung   suspended  over  the  abyss. Then, through the refraction of the rays, its disk seemed to change till it looked like an Etruscan vase, with bulging sides, standing on the   water. There was no longer any doubt as to the appearance of the phenomenon. Nothing could now interfere with this glorious sunset! Nothing could prevent its last ray from being seen! ... At last only a faint rim of gold skimmed the surface of the sea.

"The Green   Ray! the  Green Ray!" cried  in  one breath  the  brothers,  Dame  Bess and  Partridge,  whose eyes for one second had reveled in the incomparable tint of liquid jade.

Since Jules Verne wrote this so well in 1882, all I can add to it is the picture I took. Alas, I did not get a photo of the Etruscan vase - maybe next time.  

The Green Flash - Pacific Ocean off the coast of Baja California

Right before the flash - almost an Etruscan vase.

1 – Jules Verne, The Green Ray, 1882. Translated from the French Le Rayon Vert by Mary De Hautesville. Published by Sampson Low, Marston, Searle, & Rivington; London, 1883. Copy obtained via The Internet Archive. http://www.archive.org/details/greenraytrbymde00verngoog

A Toad Moment - Ennui

A couple of years ago I started writing a Toad’s Words Excursion with words from Cole Porter lyrics. My motivation was partially that I had just seen Midnight in Paris multiple times. But the full truth is that I have been fascinated by the word ennui and had been researching it (I have 44 pages of research notes). 

I started looking into ennui shortly after I had to spend eight hours flat of my back in the hospital recovering from a test. During that time I responded to an email from a friend who asked how I was doing and my response was “fighting vainly that old ennui” which, of course, is a line from Cole Porter’s I Get a Kick Out of You. Also, several years ago when our local high school performed Porter’s musical Anything Goes, I acted as a volunteer dramaturge and did a fair amount of research on Mr. Porter and his glorious words. I am in awe of anybody who can write lyrics that have the natural rhythm to them, like “At words poetic, I’m so pathetic…” Those words speak directly to me.

But my attempt at a complete Toad’s Words of Cole Porter got stalled by other events in my life, or perhaps, just ennui.

Never-the-less, I did finish writing Ennui so I present it as a Toad Moment.

Ennui, noun

Pronounced  - on we (ahn wee)

Boredom is the simple definition. However, ‘ennui’ is more than simple boredom. ‘Ennui’ is apathy, mental dissatisfaction or weariness because of lack of interest in one’s life due to existing employment or surroundings or brought about by societal or personal stagnation.

Cole Porter used ennui in the opening stanza of his song, ‘I Get a Kick Out of You’:

My story is much too sad to be told.

But practically ev'rything leaves me totally cold.

The only exception I know is the case

When I'm out on a quiet spree

Fighting vainly the old ennui

And I suddenly turn and see

Your fabulous face.

But Porter was not the only lyricist / poet to use ennui. Alan Jay Lerner had Mordred sing it in ‘The Seven Deadly Virtues’  from Camelot:

"Those seven deadly virtues were made for other chaps,

Who love a life of failure and ennui…"

Those always upbeat poets Sylvia Plath and Lou Reed wrote poems titled Ennui. Langston Hughes wrote this:

Ennui

It's such a

Bore

Being always

Poor.

And, in The Picture of Dorian Gray, Oscar Wilde has the character Lord Wotton say to Dorian Gray:

"The only horrible thing in the world is ennui, Dorian. That is the one sin for which there is no forgiveness."

And it is said that Buddha said:

 “Ennui has made more gamblers than avarice, more drunkards than thirst, and perhaps as many suicides as despair.”

Ennui comes from the French word ennui which means boredom.

Baulelaire in his preface of Les Fleurs du mal, says:

“C'est l'Ennui! —l'œil chargé d'un pleur involontaire, Il rêve d'échafauds en fumant son houka.”

Or as we would say in English:

 “It's Ennui! — his eye brimming with spontaneous tear, He dreams of the gallows in the haze of his hookah”.

Now that we have made the connection between the French word ennui and the English word boredom, I guess I should mention that, according to the OED, the first recorded use of the word boredom was by Charles Dickens in 1852 in Bleak House. To me, that seems pretty recently but maybe before Charles Dickens started writing nobody was ever bored.

Ok, that is probably much more than you wanted to know about a single word but it fascinates me. Ian Fleming (yes, the author of Chitty Chitty Bang Bang) liked the subject of boredom and lassitude of mind and used it a lot. He never used ennui but he did talk about its resulting accidie in at least five of his Bond novels – but that word and discussion will be covered in another Excursus – if acedia doesn't get me first.

A Noisy Thanks

So far this spring, in my ‘hood, I’ve seen:

Intrepid black crows cawing and mean,

Lazy red-tailed hawks soaring to maul,

Energetic woodpeckers dominating all,

Nascent black phoebes in their nest of three,

Tiny Anna’s hummingbirds swooping with glee;

Scrub jays behaving as if they’re king,

Pairs of mourning doves each pitying,

Robins, red-breasted, digging my grubs,

Ignoble house sparrows filling the shrubs,

Northern mockingbirds acting like barons,

Gopher-stalking great blue herons;

Rufus hummingbird being a missile,

A charm of gold finches eating our thistle,

California towhees gleaning the heather,

House finches in their varied red feathers,

Elusive bluebirds delivering peace,

Large band-tailed pigeons looking obese;

Citrine hooded orioles, exotic!

A pair of quail, almost quixotic,

Radiant and showy black-headed grosbeak,

Set of mallards away from their creek,

Oak titmice with their Mohawks frenetic,

Nuthatch, white breasted, looking ascetic.