I don’t know what it is exactly about sunsets that makes the heart swoon. Walking into my office late this afternoon, I caught a glimpse of fire from the corner of my eye. I moved to the window and the sky was drenched in large, graceful swaths of pink and orange. I felt the familiar swelling in my chest and could not tear myself away for several minutes.
It is not just I who is fascinated by the astral show: when sunsets are particular spectacular, they make the evening news; people talk about it at work or over coffee the following day. Everyone runs for their camera. Even seagulls and pigeons stop their strutting at sunset, and sit quietly facing the blazing horizon. Could it be that they also appreciate the perfection of nature’s artistry?