As each day starts I look at the sun, shining brightly, high in the sky. It's heating the ground below it. I step outside into it's offending light.
Sometimes it's blazing hot on my skin that seems to cook under it's magnitude. Other times it feels cool as if there's a layer ensuring that I'm not hit with its full potential.
It's potent the effect of the big ball of fire dangling above our heads. Cooking our layers like a hunter about to eat their kill.
There is a time where the sun isn't as harmful. When it's starting lose it's damaging force.
The sun turns golden instead of a harsh light yellow.
Gold leaks into the sky in little streaks.
Sometimes the gold turns to a warm pink tone that bleeds into the white, whispy clouds.
A burnt orange is common on some days as it plunges the sky into a fiery pit.
Everyday I observe what the sun does in the time that it takes to go away. It's become a bit of an obsession. There is something so calming in those moments that the sun starts to disappear that lets you let go.
There is something so satisfying in the way one can just dump a days doing into a sunset and then start the next day.