Sunset

Yesterday the sky was full of clouds. Dark, menacing, Autumnal clouds. The kind of clouds that bring October storms and leaves plastered to your windshield, stuck in your wipers when you try to whisk them away. The kind of clouds that broke every so often to let a solitary beam of sunlight through to illuminate the earth in stark contrast to the dark sky.

Driving home from work last night the sun had sunk low enough on the horizon to break through the gray covering and send forth one final shout of hope. It cried out, "I am here!" in violent shades of fuscia. The sunset was a perfect combination of the dark purple of the clouds lit from underneath in layer upon layer of magenta and orange. In the West, where the sky was clear, a shimmering golden haze was all that could be seen. I wished that I was driving toward it instead of East. Every time I looked in my rearview mirror, the colors became more and more faded, dying embers of a once heroic, passionate stand against the oncoming night.

I looked at the clock: 6:30. Night comes so soon and winter is setting in creating a chill in my bones amplified by the fact that we have yet to turn the heat on in the apartment. The time has come to switch over my closet and put extra blankets on my bed. 'Tis the season of soups and humidifiers, chapped lips, cold hands and feet, and the deep desire for days of summer.