A sunset

Bald words though these might be
Yet they will help me see
This evening of splendour
Forever and for ever.

Slightly dazed by the beauty of the shimmering lake and the majesty of the wall of dark mountains around, slightly hypnotized by the carefree people swimming along with cartwheeling swans, a little drunk by the melody and the rhythm of the music I was listening to, I walked by the waters whilst swimming in my thoughts. At some point, I dimly registered the protest of my pained feet and by a happy accident, happened to spot a little green bench almost hidden amidst the trees with just one end visible to the human eye and made my way to it, to witness a spectacular view.

I discovered today that the thrill of coming across an almost life-like painting is nowhere near the breathlessness induced by a scene which is as still as a painting. The lake was calm with even its ripples so minuscule that its motion did not register and the mountains had magically become shadowy two dimensional uniform gray outlines on the boundary. A still sailboat placed in the middle of the lake added to the effect. But I could sense movement out of the corner of my eye and turned a little to the right to see the sun set.

I have seen sunsets before, on beaches, behind hills, where the sun glides gracefully spreading a reddish tinge across the part of the sky it touches. I have never seen one hurtling down before. The sun was a spinning disc, resembling almost the round ball of light on a wall cast by a torch held by an unsteady shivering hand, a white blob of paint which magically coloured the sky a brilliant orange-red as it dropped down. The part of the lake mirroring the sun was molten gold, fiery and almost alive, gradually turning into gentle silver farther down.

And the sun set. That is to say, crashed. But the lake still gleamed with a brilliant golden sheen.

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