I wrote this observation several years ago after a special experience.
A PERFECT SUNSET
I shall never forget the sunset I witnessed from a restaurant window facing Lake Ponchartrain in Louisiana, near New Orleans. According to the Britiannia
Encyclopedia, Ponchartrain isn't a true lake, but more of a tidal lagoon, 603 square miles and 10-16 feet deep. This evening, statistics didn't matter. What I viewed is etched in my memory bank to be enjoyed the rest of my days.
The clear blue water sat in stillness as if waiting for the evening's event. Then the show began. The vast star we know as our sun-far in the distant sky-commenced its daily journey. The lake was its stage and my dinner partners and I, the audience.
The golden ball appeared to be slowly melting into the lake's far horizon. Its brilliant gilded reflection shimmered its way in our direction across the quiet lake. I was mesmerized. At first the globe of light was a gigantic ball, then smaller-smaller-smaller until the sliver of yellow slipped further into nothingness. With each movement, the sun's reflection retreated as if it were going home to mother sun.
The blue water joined in the spectacle, as the evening required a deeper hue. The color of the water dissolved into navy, then to black-no longer clear and inviting, but murky and forbidding.
I continued to sit and gaze out the window, grateful to have witnessed one of nature's stunning performances, the grand finale of a pleasant day.