October 25th, 2016

Nearly every night, I go to the beach to watch the sun go down. Sometimes with Tim, sometimes alone, but the draw I always feel to the sea is strongest in the evening.  And of course we know the sun isn't going up or down, it's the earth revolving. But the poetic illusion remains. Even the terms, Sunrise and Sunset support the fantasy.  Knowing the science behind it all does not ruin the magic for me. Even though essentially the same elements are involved each time, like snowflakes, no two sunsets are identical. And I find that beguiling.  We gather there on the sand or on the rocks, we like-minded folk, not speaking, perhaps a nod of acknowledgement but nothing more and gaze westward.  We watch the fire in the sky appear to sink into the sea and wait for the colourful bloom that follows filling the sky just ahead of the darkness that swallows it.  Then shuffle or pedal homeward at peace once again feeling that for just that moment, all is right with the world.

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