Sunset

The sky broke like an egg into full sunset and the water caught fire.

                                      - Pamela Hansford Johnson

After enjoying City Vu's flatbreads for dinner, Bob asked if we wanted to go to the Lake Michigan beach and watch the sunset.  It was Amy's last summer vacation day in Holland, and it seemed like the perfect conclusion to her time here.

Sunset comes late in western Michigan, and summer days stretch out endlessly with more than fifteen hours of sunlight, so it was after 9:00 p.m. when we reached the beach.  Sunset is live theatre and well-attended.  People gather on benches, walk out on the breakwater, or just stand and watch in wonder, all faced west with the light bouncing off their faces.  This evening, a number of pleasure boats were anchored near the channel, and a lone man on a paddleboard moved back and forth just outside of their reach, perhaps preparing for this weekend's competition.

It was cloudless and the sky blue, as the earth turned, and the sun started its descent toward the lake.  It's magic, and it's art, and it's all part of a mystical creation that draws us to this rhythmic phenomenon.  Soon the sun began to dip and a deep purple was painted across the horizon, and as it sank further, a swath of pink fell upon the purple.  We stood and waited until the very last sliver of sun had disappeared.

As always, the show was breathtaking, and we should have all applauded.  Instead, I think we each offered a silent "amen."  Amen.