in the direction of the setting sun

The air had cooled last Thursday just enough for me to open the kitchen door to the backyard and watch the little one play.  My husband, sitting at the small bistro table centered on the patio, was talking about his workday.  Listening, I looked up from my stewing chickpeas and noticed the rosy glow radiating from the outside.  The branches deepened against the sky's glow, thin silhouettes against a veil only Mother Earth & God could create.  The tiny snow white flowers on the pear tree had become a splendid mauve, blushing with delicate beauty.

I gasped and ran toward the door.  I looked to the west and saw a magnificent rose colored sky filled with lavender and orange.  I quickly grabbed my camera and watched the lavender and rose fade to a deep carrot orange.  My heart fluttered, my soul soothed.  Westward, I thought, westward-I craved.  And my heart wanted to follow the direction of the setting sun.  Westward.