For the first time the other night, I watched the sunset disappear. Right in front of me.
I was lucky enough to be running on a trail that held a pretty straight course for about 2 miles, and just at the right time. I knew I’d have to hustle to be off the trail before dark so I had hurried more than normal.
I suspect I’m sensitive to this since I’ve been collecting sunsets since I was a kid. While photos rarely capture the brilliance of the real ones, that hasn’t stopped me from trying. I’ve got them from all over the place. Everywhere I’ve ever been, I’ve brought back a sunset with me. What I had never seen before in my years of sunset collecting however was this very moment. The split seconds of time it takes them to disappear, back into the shadows and the clouds.
There is a surprising finality, that occurred to me, watching the highlighter hues of the dying daylight play across the gunmetal gray of the Portland sky. I’ve never seen this happen before, and it was disturbing and delightful all at the same time. I’ve never paid close enough attention, never had occasion to be so aware of this phenomenon. I’m glad to be reminded there are still so many surprises and experiences that await.