As the sun slipped far below the horizon on Monday the colours got ever more intense. Looking behind us it was dark, or maybe just seemed more so after turning from the burning oranges of the western sky.
The surfaces, the gathered faces, all glowed with the fire above us, eyes still fixed upwards with some grins evident and some faces just still and mesemerised.
The colours shifted, purples and blues bled in from the edges before the flames burned out completely. It was all done and dusted in 30 minutes. If felt like seconds and it felt like hours.
Over the years I’ve stopped the car and got out wherever I happened to be, ran for a summit until I thought my chest was going to burst, downed tools and bolted for a viewpoint on a church roof or just stopped mid conversation and walked away when I thought I saw a flicker of flame on the horizon.
Being handed this on a plate just at my front door doesn’t diminish the deep and total joy of experiencing it.
It’s like standing in a shower of colour letting it wash away worries and stress and repairing a smile that was maybe slipping just a little.
Make time for this stuff. Please.
*No psychedelic edits, straight from the camera, it really was like this. Crivvens.