Have you ever wondered why we love sunsets so much?
Maybe it is the last stand of the sun against the dying of the light, his refusal to fade gently into that night. Oh, how we love underdogs! Even when it is certain every day that he will be vanquished, he fights like there is hope. The great tragedy of the evening, played out like a Shakespearean play, acted out against the backdrop of the azure blue sky. Like a medieval tragedy, following a brief interlude of red stained shades, it ends with the curtain of the night.
Maybe it is the crimson hues painted across the sky by an unknown artist who finds a fresh palate every day. They say all great artists have troubled minds. Art is the reflection of their inner struggles. For some, it is a moment of perfect harmony, rising above the cacophony of their inner demons.