Sunset at Fécamp

K.J. drives us up the cliffside in Fécamp to watch the sunset one night, scheduled for 10:09 p.m. according to our phones.  We pass a chapel, Église Notre-Dame-du-Salut.  It seems like every church we visit on this trip is a tribute to "our lady" Mary.  We park across the street from graceful windmills I spotted earlier in the day behind the hill.  Cows are grazing beneath them, and the light is so perfect, my photography-loving heart is jumpy with excitement.

There's a viewing spot for looking out over Fécamp down the street from the car park.  I especially love the tower on St. Stephen's church in the town.  If a church must be called after a saint, Stephen is a good choice; I don't think I've ever seen a St. Stephen's before.

We walk along a grassy path and find a good spot for K.J. to set up a time-lapse video.  The English Channel stretches out silvery blue before us, and the white cliffs on our right extend as far as our eyes can see.  The breeze moves the grass gently, and the seagulls are calling.

K.J. preached Psalm 19 just the day before this, and he told us how if you could scoop up a bucketful of the sun, that one bucketful would weigh more than the earth and everything on it.  I love getting to see a glimpse of our big star on this clear night.  I look at my watch when it disappears below the horizon, and it is 10:10 p.m. 

We walk back to our car under a violet sky, and I stop to take a picture of the cows under the windmill because I know my mom would like it.