The swags of wild flowers glow in the evening sunshine, which will finally dim for a few hours between midnight and 2am.
A red-painted cockpit-back roll cage, wild day-glow graphics and high-mounted, carbon-fiber rear wing proclaim — nay, they scream — that you just happen to be trolling by the Starbucks on your way to qualifying at Laguna Seca.
As the sun hung heavy in the sky, we descended into a valley to find four napping lionesses guarded by two fierce males, their wild manes glowing orange, then amber as the sun set.
If you hit a wolf while it is still wild, its eyes glow red and it will try to go after you.
Their love for traditional Wild West movies glows with a cinephile's breadth of knowledge and a fan's mad crushes.
It's an awesome sight, wild and pristine, that glows in a thousand hues of red, orange and pink when the sun sets against the horizon.
The nearby plants, wild spurge and spiked gayfeather, glowed as the sun shot light over the Hudson (light travelling at three hundred million metres a second).
They know that summer in Aspen is when nature is in full swing, and the glowing fields of wild blue flax, prairie smoke and sunflowers, framed by snowcapped peaks and groves of aspen, do a fine job of wooing attention away from the glitterati.
The rest of us will be left to grow more manageable and, frankly, more interesting beauties: bloomily translucent Muscat grapes; explosively tart wild strawberries; calendula and cosmos, glowing like quiet fireworks; aromatic bay and thyme and sage the daily miracle of horticulture, available, without pretension or personal risk, to anyone with a windowsill.
