Sunset

Sunset 

With a exhausted sigh the sun begins to retire from the sky it ruled in for so many hours. The heat of the day slowly disappearing until a comfortable chill is all that the wind carries. In a slow, almost lazy, motion the sun pulls back its rays, which in turn pull back the deep blues of day with it. The blues transform and warp, casting brilliantly bright shades of purple the morph into the deepest of greens, but only for a moment. From the green comes a soothing spectrum of pinks and oranges, the colors mixing together playfully as if they are excited after a long day of work. At the very core of the color spiral comes the reds, which in turn mesh with the oranges and pinks. This draws out yellows, and at some points, even whites. The colors flicker around excitedly, dancing across the dying sky to provide those below them one last glimpse of their beauty before they disappear. 

But their job has only just begun. Reds and oranges flutter around the confines of their rock circle, lapping childishly at the smoky logs inside of them. Yellow stands at the top of the flames, holding in the much more erratic motions of its brothers. The occasional spark brings joy to the roaring warmth, encouraging them to increase their heat, to increase their play, regardless of yellows protests. The fire burns for hours on end, until finally the cold blue extinguishes them to mere coals that glow faintly on the now charred logs, almost as if the colors are smiling at one another. 

An artist paints through the night. His pallet running dry, the darker colors remain untouched to his right. For now he only works with the beautiful brights. Skillfully he works the happy colors through long, spirally strokes. The man dabs here and there, adding yellow just around the outsides of the orange and reds. The orange and reds of course overpower the yellows at some points, begging for their beauty to be shone to the fullest extent possible. When the artist lays down his paintbrush he stops for a moment, wondering if he portrayed the colors in the way they deserve. 

As if on cue, the sun begins its sleepy climb back into the darkened sky, bidding good morning to the moon as it begins its descent. Purples, magentas, deep blues and bright whites meet the mans eyes, almost coaching tears. With a smile he greets the oranges and reds as they appear around the bright sun, their dancing motions recognizable as they cast light across the sky. The artist takes in the full picture of what he is seeing and once again picks up his brush and pallet, thanking the bright colors he so deeply admired and thanking the sun for putting on such a beautiful show. The artist grabs his darker colors and gets back to work, no longer feeling tired.