Autumn Sunset

I took some pictures as the sun sank low, the day before we turned the clocks back.

I felt that this was the last truly golden sunset of the season.

As Autumn wears on, the sun drops before we are ready. We aren't waiting for it.

We hurry home to get there before dark,

but the dark catches us.

We fumble with the dark keyhole when we arrive home with the children in the afternoon.

We go into the house, lighting lamps, turning on the front porch light, trying to create a spot of glow and welcome in the dark street.

In the kitchen, we bustle about, making warmth and cheer to welcome our husbands home.

We cluster there together, the fireplace flickering nearby, more than ever needing this time with one another at the end of the day.

It wasn't the last sunset we would see, but it felt like it.

There seems to be a big difference between these long golden sunsets of summer, which are like a pageant unfolding before our eyes, and the later, quick sunsets of winter, with the sky all lavender and chilly.

Soon, the greens, golds, oranges and reds will be replaced by browns, grays, blacks, and tans.

All the seeds will blow away or be eaten by the hungry birds.

The rosehips will shrivel and dry, a few of them clinging to the stems even in the snow.

The bright bittersweet fruit will drop.

Our eyes will seek out the most subtle gradations of color.

Bright color is gone, but it has left texture behind to interest and comfort us.

Winter is coming.