End of day

The return of the sun after drab Winter skies also brings back a new time of day - so rare in the shrouded months - sunset.

Gone and immediately forgotten are the countless cloud covered evenings of almost imperceptible dimming from grey to black. The sun, once appeared, cannot resist announcing its departure from the world in a flambouyant flick of its tail. Splattering the receding sky with dripping colour.

It's almost too much to bear, watching a luminous orange sky above silvered lilac water, with the glittering bridge in between. Staring, staring, not thinking, just bearing witness. It's like a small tear in my heart, but I can't turn my eyes away.

Then another evening, a more restrained display. The sky a watercolour wash of pink, gently fading to grey. I think it's over quietly, and then, in it's dying moments, the puffy cumulus clouds are flourescent edged - lipstick kisses on the sky.

Watching the sun set on the horizon reminds me of the physical presence of the world I'm standing on: how much farther it reaches than the end of my fingertips and its bounded edges. Slipping silently beyond, can-canning its farewell, the sun glows out.

(Thanks to AbroadJZ for the picture http://www.flickr.com/photos/abroadjz/)