[Seasons: Autumn VI]
Fall evenings are special.
The earth holds the warmth of the sun like it’s still summer, but the air carries a winter warning to it. Days are warm and evenings are cool. Fall is often the season we become aware of the “degrees" of a sunset.
Pre-sunset is bright and glittery with a hint of finality. It’s like a sunset appetizer, whetting the visual pallet. The bottom of leaves catch sun rays differently than they do form the high sun of the summer, causing a green glow wherever there is a stand of trees.
Post-sunset, long before twilight, offers a special restfulness without the pressure of full darkness. Unlike pre-sunset or mid-sunset, this is often when the world is painted with violet hues, the sun low enough to offer artistic beauty but no heat.
Colors are bold during mid-sunset, and yet in the fall, they are never oppressive. Also, within each day, the horizon’s stage changes set every two minutes. (If you ever sit still long enough to watch the sunset for a half hour, try this exercise: at mid-sunset close your eyes for a five minutes or more—the longer the better. When you open them, you will experience a different scene. You get the gift of more than one sunset on the same night.)
Fall sunsets are a reminder that beauty is complex. It’s renewable and always evolving. It can’t be hoarded nor can it be commodified. It can only be experienced, appreciated, and shared.
