Sunset in Holland.
Now that winter time has kicked in and thus the time has officially been moved back an hour, it gets darker much earlier in the afternoon. In fact, when I cycle back from my work at the end of the day, that wonderful orange ball called the sun is low along the meadows, almost touching the horizon. Quite an amazing site when you begin to think about it. Because the sun is so low it gives the illusion of being much larger than normal, in fact the lower half bulges downwards as if the fluid ball is attracted and thus distorted by the gravitational attraction of the earth. Two heavenly bodies reaching out to touch each other. Grazing, glancing, scraping, gone. The orange color is not restricted to the sphere of the distant sun, rather it's energy is scattered across the whole sky, a diluted watercolor spreading out and engulfing everything in the way. And that's me, just a struggling little speck, down there doing its best to proceed so silently, headlong against the wind. Time passing, sun falling, night coming.