The twilight sky above the old ironworks factory was breathtaking. The orange and purple hues combined with the dim light of the setting sun, creating a scene that seemed to paint a canvas of the sky. The old ironworks factory that stood on the edge of my small town was once owned by one of the sons of the Indonesian president, a symbol of past glory that is now only a memory.
The factory was once home to hundreds of workers, the sound of metal clanking and the roar of large machines filling the air. Today, the factory building looks desolate and worn, but beneath the rust and ruins, it still holds a glorious past. Looking out the window, it felt like witnessing history slowly fading away.
I didn’t want this moment to pass me by, so I quickly grabbed my smartphone and snapped a photo of the explosion of color that filled the sky above the factory. The dim light of the sun blanketed the factory, creating mysterious yet beautiful shadows. Click. The image is now forever in my phone gallery, capturing a moment of beauty that will never be repeated exactly the same.
Every time I look at that photo, I am reminded of how rich my small town’s history is and how quickly time passes. There was something magical about the dusk over the old factory, a blend of past and present, like the twilight blanketing life with a soft but firm light.
