Solstice Sunset
Yesterday, Ollie and I went for a sunset walk. It was the Solstice, after all, so it seemed fitting. We wandered down toward the lake, as we do, the sky a slow-burning fire. My feet crunched occasionally on a bit of icy snow, and I thought of my ritual in Split of heading down to the sea for a sunset beer. And of that first sunset in Montenegro, where the mountains turned a desert orange and took my breath away. Or sunset in Zadar, listening to the Sea Organ sing its song. Or the lively Buža Bar in Dubrovnik that one night.
I thought of Park Grič in Zagreb and watching the sun set through the trees over the city, in a spot where humans watched sunsets for thousands of years, so far back the ruins go. Sipping mulled wine and watching the sunset on the cathedral.
My mind flashed to these sunsets and then back to the one before me. So many sunsets, now past, with the season. It’s cold now, about to get even colder. Cold shocks one awake, pares down needs to the essential. We don’t linger over sunsets in winter.
A man played with his dog down at the water, so we didn’t walk all the way down but instead continued until Ollie noticed his fellow canine and whined. I welcomed the light and thanked autumn for the sunsets softly to myself, greeted the man, and Ollie and I walked quickly toward warmth.
Catch all the Sundry Wonders posts and let me know what you experienced on your walks in the comments.
