Standing at the edge of the pond we watched in silence as the sun faded on the horizon. The water shimmered with the last lights, first a golden orange and then turning to purple ripples that caressed our toes. Our hands found each other’s as the sun’s last edge slipped behind our world.
The clouds now took over and turned the sky into orange, red, and pink cotton that floated peacefully over a world going to sleep. Without a breeze to disturb them they froze in solemn tribute to the descending orb and let themselves change moment by moment, treasuring the warm rays for as long as they were offered.
The day was over and could not be reclaimed. With a squeeze of our fingers we agreed that our journey to this moment was the right choice in a world gone mad. The sun and her sister clouds confirmed our desire to seek them out.