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I am reminded that the sun will set soon, in shades of warm amber to ease us into the quiet of day’s end. The bay is rocked by a soft current, sending gentle waves dancing to the edge of the horizon. Standing close to the water I take stock of the soil and rock at my feet and I want to sink in as deep as the ground allows.

Strange that on countless evenings I hid dusk behind closed blinds and welcomed nightfall. I was tired and racing to finish one day so I could try again in earnest the next. Tiny regrets were gathering and I flung them away with the covers before I settled into sleep. Tomorrow I would correct all the errors and address the careless omissions, if only tomorrow could come a little faster.

Now breath slows as I watch the golden crest dip and disappear. The light remains for a short time, bowing to the hands of the clock that chase it into oblivion. There is an unnerving distinction between the minutes that pass like hours, and the hours, like those spent tucked away amongst sloped granite and old pine, that depart as suddenly as dust flies to the wind.

The dreamscape of pinks and blues gives way to muddied pools of black, until I’m bracing against an endless darkness pierced only by stars. I am caught halfway between bliss and aching. I find immeasurable joy in places like this – the corners of earth with landscapes mighty enough to make me feel small. These are also the places hardest to leave. The city bursts with noise and hurried movement, but it is here on a near silent shore that time moves too quickly.