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Really, what does the sunset mean?
Scientists and astronomers would have no doubt about this: it is simply a hydrogen and helium ball moving beyond one of the countless horizons of our planet.
A painter could perceive it as a magnificent explosion of colors on an infinite canvas. For one of the greatest painters ever, a strange Dutchman living in France in September 1888, it was time to find a nice position on the Rhône’s shore.
For most workers, and for children playing in the streets as well, it’s time to go back home, albeit with quite opposite moods.
For a wolf, it’s time to hunt; for a deer, time to hide.
For mariners, it’s time to put the map aside and start looking for answers in the immense starry roof over their heads.
Those who live further in the West would simply call it dawn.
Victor Hugo defines it as no sound, yet, for Claude Debussy, it is the most musical thing ever existed.
For The Little Prince, it's something you can watch 43 times in a day.
For Atum, the Egyptian god of the setting sun, it's nothing more than a job.
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I'm pretty sure you're asking yourself a question now.
What does sunset really mean for him?
For me, the sunset encompasses all these things and more, yet simultaneously, it is none of them. It’s an eternal metaphor, an acceptance of being part of the whole circle of life, with all its wonders and despite its cruelties. Above all, it’s a childhood friend that never ages, a warrior unable to perish, a love that never fades away. And here in Sardinia, as in every other place where I go, it’s something I persist in considering home.
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Amazing people of Hive, thank you once again for your attention and your time. I hope these pictures can inspire you with a warm feeling and some moments of relax. For all the rest, you can find me in the comments! ✌️
See you soon!
Alessandro