Liquid Ice Sunset

17:21 Sunday, 19 January 1992

The sunset is flat. A cool yellow ball lingers on the horizon and teases with its imminent departure. The hesitation hints of its return, but promises nothing.

A flat red line wraps around the rim of the horizon under a dome of gray and slowly shrinks into oblivion. The last hints of sun sink beneath an undulating liquid ice horizon and draw down wisps of color who linger behind on clouds. Only the rose tinted sky remains to remind that there has ever been a sun at all. It is gone.

My body grows cold in the absence of its beautiful warmth. This is the onset of my first night at sea, alone. Sister moon, still mostly full, will wane during this trip She will soon rise to offer her company, to offer her cool reflected light of the sun. I am glad and look forward to her presence.