Sunset

I was heading down the M1 towards the city the other day.  The weather had been tempestuous - the kind Melbourne is famed for; one minute pouring rain; the next, bright sunshine and holding it all together, a high, whipping wind.  The road was still wet but it was no longer raining as my car crested a hill late that afternoon.  And there in the distance, like the fabled city of Oz (excuse the pun), glistened Melbourne; its buildings reared out of the green grey mass of suburbia, backlit in orange and gold by the magnificent setting sun which had broken free of the dark clouds above.

It had not been long since I'd gotten back.  And I had been feeling quite disconnected from friends and family and their lives which have gurgled merrily along, gathering up partners, houses, children and more during the last seven years.  But in that moment, when I espied Melbourne's gleaming spires, I thought, 'yes!  I'm home!' and was grateful and relieved to be in a place where I could feel such a sentiment.

Last week, my lecturer was waxing lyrical about a sunset she had recently seen, but added 'but no one is ever interested in anyone else's sunsets'.  She's probably right.  But as long as we each have our own sunsets to dazzle and beguile ourselves with.

I didn't take a photo that day because I was driving, but here's one I took of a sunset at the South Rim of the Grand Canyon last year.  (Thanks, Poladroid!)