There’s something sobering about sunsets. They close a door. Silent the page. Finish a chapter. They herald the ending of something, the no-going-back of full day. But still we seek them out, chase them, revel in their beauty, attempt to capture them on camera. We try to give them words, and mirror them through all forms of artistry. And yet, we never really do them justice in our descriptive attempts. The last sunset of 2014 has just ended on the East Coast. It was a good one, a slow sinking of a winter sun in a nearly-cloudless, frozen sky.
I love the ending of a year, the looking ahead at the new. The goals and the unspoken, firmly-held dreams. The unburdened and unbridled hope of it all. A hope that is raw and pure and completely untouched. I like that unknown hope, the looking ahead at the murkiness of what might be, the wondering, the seeing dimly. The soft, muted outlines and shapes and unknown futures. There’s beauty in that unknown, the unsettledness, the open journal, awaiting the pen to set alight a record of what can be. The crispness and clarity of last year has come, and it’s gone again. We know what already was, can look back on it with clear vision. But there’s a muddled and filmy view ahead, a wonderful look at what might be, soft and murky shapes and pretty visions. There’s an untold story just waiting to be recorded, and although we’re seeing through a glass darkly, we are still seeing. And through that clouded vision, there are beautiful things to behold.
Happy New Year.