Every sunset I see in Africa takes my breath away. There really is very little hope in trying to describe one, but if you’ve seen one, you know what I’m talking about.
Sunsets are not some quiet affair, where the sun merely slips beyond the horizon and day is done. No, in Africa, the sun goes to bed with great fanfare, being sure that everyone sees him going. It’s almost like a little child being sent to bed while the party is just getting started. He wants to be sure that everyone in the room knows he is leaving and that he is not happy about it.
But perhaps the sun is not some petulant child, but rather a wise musician who knows the best piece is the finale and makes sure that while some may have slept through the intermediate parts, no one misses the ending.
The sky arranges itself in a positive myriad of layers. You can visibly mark each individual color, almost like sections of cotton candy. Fiery red gives way to brilliant orange, merging into pinks and yellows, fading into purples and periwinkles, robin’s egg blue and teal, spanning up over your head into the perfect shade of deep water blue and into the opposite horizon as stillest, darkest blue.
The sun itself becomes a fiery ball of molten lead, shimmering before your very eyes. The whole landscape changes, becoming mere stick figures of black. The thorn trees remind me of the skeleton of last year’s maple leaf when you hold it up to the sun – every branch and twig clearly shadowed against the ignited backdrop.
You can mark the progress as the sun sinks lower and lower beyond the rim of the earth. Then, almost with an audible sigh, it slips over the edge, his farewell final but leaving behind brilliance and glow for several minutes until that also expires. The sky darkens, the deepest, stillest blue taking over all, and soon the pinpoints of stars twinkle down on you.
As much as one may try to describe the sunset, it is only fitting it with genericness to liken it to such tangible things – a child, a cotton candy stick, a leaf. One can never fully describe the awe that accompanies such a sight, the majesty and overwhelming sense of smallness that comes because of such a scene.
God truly is the best artist of all.
