The Gentleman's Book of Thoughts

Peculiar Ways

Peculiar ways there are to picture and describe a sunset, especially one that comes at one of the oddest and yet most appreciated of times. There was a deluge that fell from the sky, from the billowy, plump clouds above. As the saying goes, when it rains, it pours, and it showered cool, light sheets onto vibrant, fresh leaves and rustic, rough bark. A small quick precipitation that cooled and traced along warm skin, falling upon the spry mint grass and seeping into the ruddy, earthy soil underneath. It oiled the streets and sidewalks and chilled the air with its announcement of Autumn. Yet the sun beckoned through those soft, cotton whipped clouds, through the misted downpour, bathing the world in the richest and warmest of orange-golden glimmers. It gave the earth an otherworldly feel of a place not known or seen. A place only alive in one's own dreams and imagination. That senuated the ripe, bright colors the leaves were starting to take and embellished the sensation that only comes with fall.

It was a warm flush, the light of flavorful honey unspooling from a comb, or a thousand orange candles that completely illuminates a darkened room. The glow of a colossal firefly and the color of sweet nectar dripping from a fruit. The wings of butterflies, the plumage of robins, the eye of an eagle, a warm smile, an inspiring song, the smells of foods that feed the soul, hardy laughter of a loved one, juice-mix dissolving in a glass of water. It was a light show of such exuberance that even the clouds blushed pink like cotton candy, as if abashed that their dance of rain had dampened the day's last act. Yet the effect was harmonious just the same. A grand finale leaving the world aglow before the twilight came to usher out the stars. 

And it was before that last call, where the clouds and the sun would bow and then close the curtains on their grand show, that the sky presented its last act. Faint shimmering colors that stretched across the sky, so faint and subdued that it could have been easily missed. A spectacle commonly placed in one's wonderous dreams and pleasant fantasies. A rainbow painted the sky, modest in the way its beauty was neither overstated nor intense. And though it was far from being the centerpiece in such a stellar moment, it added a sweet and touching flavor. One that was subtle and yet uplifting.

Yes, peculiar ways there are to describe a sunset. One that comes at the odd time of chilling rain. That leaves watchers and onlooker alike feeling rather odd and perplexed themselves, but awed all the same. Though, as the world was blanketed with light, despite the constant rhythm of the storm, for the few moments a sunset lasts, it left a reminiscence that all golden lights will do. It paints the sense that, although very far from perfect, this earth of ours is simply good.