At the end of a day at Paynes Prairie Preserve near Gainesville, Florida, I was driving back to my campsite in the Ocala National Forest. The sun had set, and the little country road winding through the forest was quite dark. Suddenly, there was a flash of brilliant orange to west, as I passed an opening in the trees, at a boat access ramp to a small lake. It was gone instantly, as I drove through the forest. I wished I could go back, but along the narrow road, there was no place to stop and turn around, and as miles went by, I knew I'd missed my chance; the amazing light from the sunset wouldn't last more than a few minutes.
Back in my tent, I examined the map, tracing along the road I had been on, trying to find that magic spot. Eventually, I saw that the road passed by only one little lake close enough for there to be a boat ramp access. I marked the spot: Beakman Lake. I knew the weather forecast for the next day was identical, and I reasoned that there was a good chance the sunset would be duplicated. So the next day, I made sure I was at that boat ramp beside Beakman Lake about twenty minutes before sunset. I waited. The Florida mosquitoes attacked in squads, then regiments, then entire divisions. I think they drew a pint and a half of blood, but still I waited. And when the western sky turned orange, I was ready.