Almost every morning of the year, Maria and I look out the bedroom window at the other side of the room and see a pink sky. We get excited, often waking the other up if they are asleep. It is a beautiful thing to see and a delightful way to wake up.

The pink cloud is maddeningly brief as it lights up a cloud or the sky itself. This happens in some places, not in others.

It’s a soft pink; it only deepens and brightens for seconds. It’s the very first rays of sunshine on the far horizon bouncing off a cloud and producing a gorgeous pink that I never see at any other part of the day.

The pink cloud does not appear daily, only in some atmospheric coming together that I don’t quite understand. But I do know this much.

When the sun rises (or sets), it is lower down, and the light has further to travel. Light is made up of all different colors – that’s why we get rainbows.

Blue light can’t travel very far, so much of it ‘scatters’ out before it reaches us. But red light can travel, which is why the sky appears more red and pink than usual.

I wasn’t thinking of it today. I got up in the dark to get ready to go see my podiatrist surgeon about an amputated toe. (The appointment was moved to tomorrow.)

Running around naked has been controversial, even though it’s rare.

Two or three distraught readers, all women, wrote over time to tell me the idea was immoral and that I was “disgusting,” although they haven’t stopped reading the blog, which puzzled me.

I am rarely naked and never in public; I grew up with a Calvinist kind of family in New England; my parents would have been horrified.

And I am never visible from the road.

I failed to get this picture of the pink clouds many times. By the time I get outside, even when I grab my iPhone or a camera, it is gone; the sun doesn’t stop moving for me and is much faster.

Maria and I have guessed that the pink in the sky lasts 10 or 15 seconds. I often don’t even know where the camera is.

I am obsessive, as some of you may have figured out.

I never quit, forget, or stop trying when I go after something. This is how I finally persuaded Maria to marry me, even though she had – and has –  little regard for men. I even dreamed about the pink sky once.

I can’t count the times I grabbed a camera and rushed outside, usually dressed but sometimes not, sometimes with a bandaged leg or toe, sometimes not; it was sometimes cold, sometimes hot.

Sometimes there was a brutal wind, sometimes bugs.

My surgical boot slowed me; I was not a pretty sight.

I admit it became something of a mission that always got away. It’s not that big a deal, really. But it was. I was excited and told Maria when she got up. She was not impressed.

What were the odds I would be outside at 6 a.m. with the right camera, setting, sky, and cloud in the right place?

Until this morning, I was coming downstairs early to clean up for the planned visit to Dr. Daly.  I can’t shower for three weeks, but I can clean up thoroughly with sponges, disinfect wipes, and towels. If I had been in the shower, I would have missed it.

As I entered the bathroom, I looked at the wind and saw some clouds above the barn turning pink.

The Gods were on my side this time. My (almost) new windowless Leica SL2-S was on the dining room table, smiling at me and daring me to go for it. I did, of course.

I had no clothes on, but it was dark, the roads were tranquil, and I had protection from the road by the back of the house.

The camera was set for autofocus, and the exposure was just right. I ran out and rushed back into the house, excited to see if I had caught the pink cloud.

I did. It was beautiful and an affirmation of something – stubbornness perhaps, maybe even creativity. Or perhaps I’m just crazy; no news there.

Maybe luck, something I don’t really believe in. But I got the picture. It is very satisfying.