The view from my gate at the cottage isn’t much until the sun goes down, just some fields, a hedge, and the mountain in the distance if you look to the left. That changes when the sun begins to set though. It’s a different show every night and, like a bottle of wine that’s lost its label, you never quite know what you are going to get. It could be something or nothing, but it’s usually something and sometimes quite something. When that happens, just for a few minutes, it’s as if everything in the world is fine even though it obviously isn’t.
Sometimes as I stand there listening to the birds, watching the light flicker away, drinking Merlot, feeling the peace, and smiling in a half-witted way I wonder what it would be like if this was the whole world. A world where there were no terrible people doing terrible things or at least a world where we can stand watching the sun set and not know that they are happening.
That’s what it must have been like a couple of hundred years ago. No television, radio, internet, not even easily accessible newspapers. It must have been like living in a bubble, not knowing that just a few thousand miles away people were dying in their tens of thousands and religious dictators were beheading innocent people. Back then your whole world would have been the view from your gate. Was that a good or bad thing? I don’t know. I’ve never lived in a world small enough to experience that kind of peace.
Oh well, at least for a few minutes there’s the light, the wine, the view, and peace.
Friday around seven… a Sauternes
Awash with yellow, blue, and buddleia - a mellow, fruity little sunset.
Saturday around seven… a Merlot
Deep blue sky, hot orange glow, with a hint of grasses – a rich, full bodied sunset.
Sunday around seven… a Cabernet Sauvignon
Hints of pink, yellow, and a crescent moon – a mature sunset with just a hint of darkness.