Saturday, October 19, 2019

Sun, set, west

It happens every day. Same place but different times. Red skies at night etc. Some are brighter, more vivid, bigger than others. Some dull days it goes almost unnoticed apart from the loss of light. Often photographed and highly filtered, an easy image to torture for one's own ends. Ancient civilizations may have worshiped this moment, a slit shining through a standing stone or confused it with the activities of a dragon swallowing the sun. Some call it "wine o'clock". Some just dip their sun visors as they drive west and hurry to get home, blinded by the light. Peasants leave the fields and prepare a well earned meal. Birds will spin and swoop across the skies celebrating their fellow feathered gods before they roost. You choose.

Meanwhile I recall the dragon moments and memory and how real they seemed at the time.

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