As if God graffitied rainbow-flame upon the evening sky, the sunset came in its boldest blaze.
Sunset came to the highlands as God's poetry, hues from flame to heather told in soft rolling verse.
The sunset comes as a settled heart to the horizon, as if the sky itself could speak of love.
The sun set in the sky as fresh colours brushed upon an artist's canvas, as if those rays were destined to create a great work of art - one given to those open to capturing simple moments in the soul.
The orange gold stretches far and wide, the colour of fire hearths and tangerines. It is but the reflection of the dawn, the promise of the rising sun that comes after the velvety night has had its say and the land has rested once more.
With the setting sun came a sky of fire, the orange of every wintry hearth. It was the battle cry to the gathering night, that the only achievement of darkness is to show starlight all the more clearly.
The sun set in the sky, as bold as one of Aunt May's tangerine jellies. It sat within that sky, that summer-fruit hued throne, as if it looked over the earth, stretching out with sepia tones to everyone below.
Aaron watches the sea, lost in the rhythmic percussion of waves on sand. His eyes are steady to the horizon, face aglow with the last orange rays before twilight beckons the stars. His lips bear the semblance of a smile, just enough to show that he is enjoying his thoughts, whatever they may be. Lucy moves closer so that he feels her presence, yet stays quiet, allowing him to stay lost in the moment a while longer.
The sunset is merely a prelude to the dawn, yet its majesty fills my mind with the most beautiful of dreams. As my eyes drift to rest I am one with the stars, my skin cooled by the breeze, and when I awake the sky will be radiant with the first kiss of the new day.
At the edge of the cloud there was a brilliant white patch, like a turning page catching the sun. The rest was dove grey with a subtle hint of purple, just enough to announce the coming sunset.
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