The winter when I was six, most days after school I grabbed my sled. A steep hill behind our rental home had a run on it that was a thrill for me. I’d belly-flop onto the sled, race down the hill, and fly off a retaining wall into deep snow.
The run was to the west. Many days, when I landed I looked up at a glorious sunset. The sun sometimes went behind dark, puffy clouds, lining them with brilliant gold. The sky was a continuous blend of gold on the horizon, grading to orange and pale blue, and finally into a dark blue overhead.
The colors were always changing. As the deep golden sun emerged from a cloud, it brightened the snow around me, in hues from gold and red to blue. often I could see bright sun-dogs far to either side of the sun, caused by glowing ice crystals.
As the dark red sun dropped into the horizon, big as a pumpkin, I could actually see it move.
After the sun disappeared, the horizon turned from gold to orange, red, violet, and blue.
“TOMMY, SUPPER IS ALMOST READY. COME, WASH YOUR HANDS!
OK, Mom, I’m coming.
In a minute or two.
“TOMMY, SUPPER IS READY NOW! YOUR DAD IS GETTING ANGRY!”
OK, then I went up the hill. The sun was gone and it was getting pretty dark.
Most days I only made one run down the hill with that sled.
The sunset was waiting for me.