Ben had always lived a predictable life. So much so that you could set your watch by his behaviour. His days were a series of neatly arranged routines: breakfast at 7 AM, work at 8, gym at 5, dinner at 7, and bed by 10. Each day was a mirror image of the one before, and although he found comfort in this predictability, he felt he was missing out on something important.
One evening, as he left the office later than usual, a rarity, Ben noticed an unusual sky, painted in hues of orange, pink, and purple. It was a sunset like he had never noticed before. Compelled by its beauty, he decided to drive to the nearby hilltop park, a place he hadn’t visited in years.
When he reached the park, he saw a group of people gathered, all with their eyes fixed on the horizon. Ben joined them, and for the first time in a long while, he allowed himself to simply be in the moment. The ccolours deepened, the sun dipped lower, and as it finally disappeared, the crowd began to disperse. Ben lingered, savouring the tranquillity that followed the disappearance of the light.
The next evening, Ben found himself at the same hilltop. This time, he brought a blanket and a thermos of coffee. As he settled in, he noticed an elderly man setting up an easel and canvas nearby. Intrigued, Ben struck up a conversation. The man introduced himself as Samuel, a retired art teacher whose favourite pastime was painting sunsets.
“Every sunset is unique,” Samuel explained, mixing colours on his palette. “Just like every person, each one has its own character, tells its own story, and just maybe predicts the future. Remember; Red sky at night, angel’s delight.”
Ben watched as Samuel deftly captured the changing colour of the sky. Inspired, Ben returned to the hilltop the following evening and the one after that, each time with a sketchbook in hand. He wasn’t much of an artist, but he enjoyed the process of trying to capture the fleeting image before him.
As the weeks went by, Ben met others who frequented the hilltop: Maria, a poet who wrote verses inspired by the sunset; Lucas, a photographer always searching for the perfect shot; and Lila, a young girl who collected rocks and leaves to create natural collages. Each person shared their unique way of connecting with the sunset, and Ben began to see the beauty in their individuality.
One evening, as he sketched, Ben noticed a young woman sitting alone, tears streaming down her face. He hesitated, unsure if he should approach, but something about the moment urged him to act. He walked over and offered her a tissue.
“Thank you,” she said, wiping her eyes. “I just… ” today was a hard day.”
Ben nodded, sitting beside her. “I’ve had days like that too. Sometimes, watching the sunset helps.”
She looked at him, her eyes reflecting the fading light. “It is beautiful, isn’t it? It’s like the universe is telling us that even the day’s end can be stunning.”
They sat in silence, watching as the last sliver of sun disappeared below the horizon. As the sky darkened, Ben felt a sense of connection, not just to the woman beside him but to everyone who had ever paused to appreciate the beauty of a sunset.
Over time, Ben’s routine began to change. He still had his structured days, but he made space for spontaneity and connection. He found joy in the unexpected and learned to appreciate the uniqueness in every moment and every person he met.
Years later, Ben stood on the same hilltop, now with his own easel and canvas. He had become a familiar face, welcoming newcomers and sharing the lesson he had learned. Each sunset was a reminder that life, with all its unpredictability and variation, was a series of unique, beautiful moments waiting to be cherished.
And so, every evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, Ben would smile, knowing that just like the sunset, every person he encountered had their own story, their own beauty, and their own light to share.
The sunset is free for everyone to appreciate, but not everyone appreciates the sunset.
