Hues of red and lavender blended together in the clear evening sky. I don’t think I have seen the sky like this before. I write with my laptop propped up on one lap as I gaze out the window, trying to find the words to describe the sky. As the minutes pass, the sky changes. The sun sets further over the hills; pink rises and the lavender turns to grey. The street lights illuminate.

I sometimes think about how sunsets are never the same. I know what colours to expect and in what direction I need to look to see them, but there is always a surprise: the arrangement of the clouds, or the lack of them, the position of the sun and how it relates to the hills or the trees, or something else. This evening, it was the hues of red and lavender. I felt like I was seeing a sunset I had never seen before. No two sunsets are the same.

Before the sun set over the hills earlier this evening, the sun peeked over and below clouds, creating bands of yellow through the greys and the whites in the sky. I smiled as I admired the details of the sky – the clouds, the colours, the width of the horizon.

Looking back, I realise that this is now the time of year where I can watch more of the setting sun. The clouds of winter have receded; the spring breeze blew them away. The sun sets later.

From my window I no longer see the pink in the sky; the sky is now a deep blue. Things change with time. But the colour is forever in my words: the way that the red and lavender blended in a way I have never seen before, now here, in words.

This was the sunset of March 19th, 2025, seen from here, the place I call home.