'But what is the sunset?' he asked.
I stood in silence, my gaze fixed upon the slowly sinking sun, a mass of golden sparks ringed by a sky of colour, resplendent. 'The sunset is the last vestige of today. The fading of day to evening to night. The catalyst of transition between light and darkness'.
I didn't take my eyes from the sky, its firmament a stage upon which cloud and sun conjured a performance each unique and memorable. Daily in repeat, but never the same performance. Every sunset different in hue, nuance and timbre.
'It is more than that' I continued.
'The sunset is hope. That with the sun's return tomorrow, we will not squander the day on frippery and wastefulness. That we will employ each moment of light that silent star affords, to make good our presence on earth. To create memories, to strive to achieve, to be good in thought and actions, to practice kindness in all we do.
A hope yes, and a reminder too. A reminder of our impermanence. For one day we will witness our final sunset. And the sun will not rise the next morning. And who knows how many sunsets we will embrace. And how each will remain a marker of all we do. Or fail to achieve.'