Until early summer fully dresses the trees, I see through the windows of our flat the kind of sunsets that I used to dream of.
As our rooms take on a blood-red hue, I look out at open sky, sea, trees silhouetted in the foreground, framing the power and majesty of the Sun – an incandescent crimson disc lowering in the sky as we rotate rapidly away. An occasion, weather and life permitting, to be mesmerised by something I otherwise take so much for granted.
The best sunsets are the greatest show on Earth, with the finest cast: the Sun, local star and life-giver; planet Earth, our only home and mother; Humanity, the witness bathed in the glow of the universe – very likely sole witness, briefly self-aware until the show is over.
But this, surely, is what draws us to sunsets (or dawns, but the west coast is my preference): a fleeting chance for our spirit to acknowledge that we never left the Garden of Eden and that we stand, already, in Paradise.
Paradise hangs impossibly in the blackness of space, entirely alone and beautiful. And yet we do not see it – except for a fleeting glimpse as the Sun sinks from our view.
Comments
Rhiannonw | March 21, 2012 - 22:45
I like the concentration of this piece too! full of some really lovely descriptive details. I'm not keen on the term 'mother Earth' though I suppose we were made from its dust! And, in all the Edenic beauty we do long for the end of the present flaws and troubles. As you say, such sunsets do remind and lift the heart.
Well written. Rhiannon
Rhiannonw | March 22, 2012 - 19:51
I know that the future even better world will be there, partly because of the exquisite design we see of a great Creator, and partly because of the words of Jesus Christ.
Rhiannon
Parson Thru | March 22, 2012 - 19:52
Thanks Rhiannon. I suppose I see us as being of the Earth and the stars and all the material of the cosmos. Everthing that exists I suppose. Planets feel like 'shes' or maybe that's just our habit. I don't know. I think the main point is that it's our only home and, except for mathematically, there's only one.
There is the longing and there is the evident truth: this is it - all there is. I think the positive out of that would be that we could stop seeing this existence as commonplace and really appreciate it. Even stop hoping for a swift end of something already beautiful to bring us to some religious promise that is almost certainly not there. Now that would be the real tragedy. Thanks for your encouragement :)
Parson Thru | March 22, 2012 - 19:59
Oops! I seem to have leap-frogged you when I edited the comment. There is room on this big ball for all faiths and all beliefs and if I pray for anything, it is understanding and tolerance. I hope that there is something better. When I look out of the window, though, what I described is what I see.
skinner_jennifer | March 25, 2012 - 14:58
This is simply a beautiful description of the
planet that we all inhabit, you have reminded
the reader how much we should respect this earth.
Thankyou for sharing.
Jenny.
Parson Thru | March 25, 2012 - 16:51
Thanks Jenny