I love watching the sun set, from golden hour to the moment when the last pink hues fade from the sky. Every moment is magical. As I write, there are bands of purple radiating behind the ripples of thin clouds on the horizon.

I periodically look out the window when the sky is clear and the sun is setting, eager to see as many of the colours of the sky as possible – the oranges and the yellows, the pinks and the purples, the blues. I know that every time I look, there will be something new to see. In the same place, a different perspective.

When I looked out the window a few moments ago, I saw a faint silver arch in the sky. Is that… a crescent moon? I smiled and laughed a little to myself. It was as if I had never seen a present moon before. I am looking at the moon now as I write this sentence, searching for words to describe the new, silvery, light in the sky.

The silver crescent stands out in front of the darkening blue sky. It has been a while since I have seen a crescent moon so narrow.

I turned the light off indoors so that the interior light would not reflect on the window so that I could see more. Shortly thereafter, I noticed, below the moon, at a distance I cannot quantify for I know not how to measure the night sky (some things are beautiful because they are indescribable), a star: the first star visible this evening.

The lavender is fading and the blue of the late evening envelops more of the sky, the colours of sunset giving way to the celestial. I look eagerly to the horizon for the next star to appear.