2020 Sunday — Once a Day

There is nothing spectacular about this photo; taken with my old iPhone, it hardly does justice to the subject. It captures, though, enough for me.

Contained in that view is a moment that only happens once a day, and when we are here on the coast we almost never miss viewing the sunset.

It’s the finale; the goodbye; the farewell. It’s the dividing line that slices our day into night. It’s the reminder to live each moment well because there won’t be another chance to live it again. And it is spectacular.

There is no encore.

Invariably this moment each day is unusually quiet.

Today I had put dinner on the table as this performance was happening slightly to the north of us, just out of view of our kitchen. So several times I would walk the dozen steps to the front northwest corner window and sigh.

Other than say, “Honey, you need to come watch,” I would say nothing. Because words, as much as I like them, just cannot measure-up to the magnificence of this moment.

= = = = = = = =

This has been a wonderful day. We had no agenda; nothing that we had to do, so we did nothing and enjoyed ourselves immensely. Well that’s not quite true. Mr. Fun walked to the pier and back early this morning and later he trimmed the shrub that was beginning to block the view from the southwest corner of the house, and I addressed a fistful of postcards. Oh, and on this wonderfully autumn day, I made meatloaf for the first time in months; this little house felt almost as if it were swelling with the fragrance of cooking. The aroma was intoxicating.

Good night from
California’s Central Coast
in Cayucos,
Rosie (& Mr. Fun), aka Carol
and Chloe & Mitzi too!