The sun is sinking below the horizon. It’s fire spreads throughout the entire sky, igniting a flame that does not exist, yet engulfs what once was plain and simple. I watch as the light is drained from the air like melting paint, flowing back towards the brilliant sphere sinking lower and lower.

It would be scary, if not for it’s beauty. So many different shades are occupying the sky at once. A blank canvas, where a celestial being visits every dusk and every dawn to unleash their magic. The sun itself is this being, and it creates this array to proclaim both its departure and its eventual return.

I glance behind me. A wall of darkness is slowly creeping up from beyond the skies, as the moon wakes up from it’s slumber. I quickly turn back to the sun, for I know it will disappear any minute along with it’s glorious array of shades and hues. Even as the last of the sun sinks far out of sight, the sky does not change right away. The sunset stays for a little bit more, as if fighting against the oncoming night, But, as each second passes, it slowly loses it’s radiance and eventually succumbs to the oncoming darkness.

I’m not sad. Because, I know that, tomorrow, the sun will come back to its now empty canvas and recreate it’s celestial masterpiece.