Into the Darkness

One of the roads I drive home on, the one I call my extended driveway since you can't get to much until you get to one end of it or the other, has a significant portion that runs solidly east and west.  When I drive home, after a long, long day, full of work and errands, perhaps some shopping or dinner with the family or the girls or any number of activities that fill my life, and I hit that road at just the right time there is a phenomenon that strikes me as marvelous every time. 

Ahead of me, darkness - and often, particularly in summer, that post dusk darkness is thickened by a deep cloud cover, which can result in a surprisingly early inky sky.  In my side and rear view mirrors, however, a spectacular sunset glows - all pinks, and oranges, tendrils of clouds whispering to the sun, go to bed, go to bed. 

There seems to be no blending, no gradual descent into night, just light behind me, and darkness ahead, like somewhere over the top of my vehicle a curtain has been drawn.  It's almost distracting, as the even sleepy sky seems brilliant in reflection compared to the shade that lies ahead.  Depending on my day, it can be disconcerting sometimes to have such a broad contrast between where I've been and where I'm going. 

It reminds me of when I used to take the train when I was younger, that for a stretch ran true north, and one of side of the train slid along the darkness and the other still bathed in sunset.  But I had more time to soak that in as I was just a passenger.  It really felt like two different worlds - as I would loll my head from one side to the other, my irises dilating and contracting in rhythm with the train rumble.  Funny that at that time of my life, the contrast ran bilaterally, allowing me to make a choice on which type of scenery I soaked in. And now, as I am quite a bit older, the directions have changed and with it the perspectives.

I suppose, in the wee hours of the morning, the phenomenon reverses itself, a sultry morning sky yawning ahead, while the darkness fades away behind.  But that's not my schedule, at least not my natural one.  And the few times I have driven that route at a time I might capture it, I am just awake enough to move the mechanics safely, and stay focused on the task at hand. 

So for now, I'll just marvel at the rearview, nature's finale in harmonic hues and say goodbye to another day.