And I remember Muscatine — still more pleasantly — for its summer sunsets. I have never seen any, on either side of the ocean, that equaled them. They used the broad smooth river as a canvas, and painted on it every imaginable dream of color, from the mottled daintinesses and delicacies of the opal, all the way up, through cumulative intensities, to blinding purple and crimson conflagrations which were enchanting to the eye, but sharply tried it at the same time. All the Upper Mississippi region has these extraordinary sunsets as a familiar spectacle. It is the true Sunset Land: I am sure no other country can show so good a right to the name. The sunrises are also said to be exceedingly fine. I do not know.
In 1855, Twain lived briefly in Muscatine and worked at the Muscatine Journal, which was partly owned by his brother, Orion Clemens.
I’ve heard that Twain made similar comments about the sunsets in San Francisco, so maybe he plagiarized himself. I don’t know.
What I do know — apparently because I get up earlier than Twain did — is that sunrises in Muscatine are also incredible. Especially this morning. I tried to get a picture, but I was running late to get to the gym and a picture wouldn’t have done it justice anyway. The sky was red. It was something to see.
When I got home, I took the dog for a walk, finished some laundry (which required a couple of trips from the basement and up the stairs to the second floor) and then I mowed the yard. All kinds of what the experts call functional fitness.
But it might not be the best idea to listen to Pandora’s fitness country channel while mowing the yard. The music I listened to only motivated me to finish quickly and move on to the next chore of the day. And that could prevent me from getting in the bike ride I have planned before the forecasters say it is supposed to start raining this evening.
Quote of the day: Be less curious about people and more curious about ideas. — Marie Curie, Polish scientist (1867-1934)