I open the west-facing door to head out of the yoga studio. The yellowy-orange setting sun jumps out at me with a delightful surprise. It is like the world is all a dark deep blue and this orange circular glow is hanging in the middle of all this depth. I yell a good-by to Debra and dash out to my car. The sky is noisy with thunder and sparkling with lightning but in this moment it isn’t raining. It has taken a reprieve from its stormy activity.
I leave the yard and as I drive home I watch the sun as it slowly descends, falling below the crust of the earth. When I first walked out it was sitting high in the sky. By the time I hit the highway, 3 minutes, it was already half way to the earth. By the time I turn onto my grid road, heading north, half of it is below the edge of the earth. In 10 minutes it has been slipping down the dark blue sky like quick sand. So quickly I am surprised and in awe of this beautiful event I get to witness.
I feel it is calling to me as I watch it from the corner of my eye heading north now. It is asking me to not forget it. To remember it. Maybe to even write about it. It isn’t sad that it is leaving us. It knows it is time and just wants me to soak up its energy, its sacredness.
Before my journey to joy I would have noticed the setting un. I may have even been in awe of it. I just wouldn’t have allowed myself to get as wrapped up in it and let it consume a whole 15 minutes of my life as well as write about it as soon as I walk in the door.
All this magnificence in nature is a true gift that we can watch and soak up every day, every season, every year. We ignore that the sun rises and sets every day. We don’t even ponder that we set our daily rhythms, something so basic in our lives, to this sacred event. I wish I had a camera with me. I would have loved to have posted a picture of it.