Sundowning
The sunset was unaffected by her mood, her mood was unaffected by the sunset. The sunset was a reflection of her mood – red, sluggish and wide open. Spreading across the sky like a threadbare blanket, the islands, and inlets of clouds creating an imaginary shoreline above the cornfields.
An ocean in the sky and ocean within reach.
The ocean was a place where she felt at peace.
She would wander the dust main street of her hometown with the ocean behind her eyes, the memory of salt spray in her nostrils, but the pervasive spring smell of dog excrement sneaking its way in around the corners of her senses. The waves and currents in her memory carrying the prosaic farmyard odours away on the outgoing tide. Floating through her life on the salt water buoyancy , being buffeted to and fro by life's needs and wants and floating further and further away from her destination, from her goals.
The undercurrents strong and mysterious take her to endings unknown through experiences unplanned to islands abandoned.
Without a rudder or compass to guide her, blinded by the hectic pace of the wild ocean will she ever find her way home? Will she ever find her purpose?
The sunset thinks so but does not share his opinion with her. How could he? They speak different languages, he one of colours and light, she one of emotion and words. She gazes at the sunset willing him to understand her question, willing him to answer her.
Every night after supper she finds her feet carrying her to the point, carrying her to the sunset - to watch the shoreline grow and fade - to watch the islands blossom and be consumed - to watch the sunset create his world, and sink into his own ocean. His conversation intense and passionate and completely incomprehensible to her, but still she comes to watch and try to understand.