I’m a Sunset Hypocrite

I admit. I’ve been a hypocrite when it comes to sunsets.

I know what you’re thinking. Sunsets, really? The cliche of Instagram art. Like the rain and sunset spam isn’t enough already.

But hear me out.

I want to admit that I’ve realised I’m guilty of being partial towards certain sunsets. Until recently, I’d make time for sunsets only while on vacation.

Yes yes, the beautiful parting splendor of the sun. The promise of a new day. The hope that tomorrow holds countless possibilities.
The feeling of time slowing down, even if just for a few moments.

It just felt impossible to imagine that I could fully enjoy the sky’s theatrics of colours unless I was on vacation.

As if the beauty could only be felt when I’m at a place far from home, free from the irksome obligations of the everyday routine.

Now I sit in my room writing this, while looking out of my west facing window, at the blue and orange evening haze. In these months at home, switching from one screen to another, sunsets are an escape.

Not on a beach, not overlooking tiny looking city buildings and not amidst mountains.
Just through the window of my small bedroom.
(with some clothes drying there)

The responsibilities of everyday life with a special feature of extra chores. The constant check list of work topped with the pressure of pandemic productivity. The feeling of being stuck as the days and weeks go by.

But the sky is still ablaze with colour. In all its well deserved glory.

The most accessible everyday light show.
Every evening, a new palette.