Dusk Always Leaves the Stories

Have you ever thought about a thing before nightfall? Dusk to be exact.

Sunset while on the Kenting beach, Taiwan

Dusk always has its own story, there is a sense of happiness when the dusk comes. But sometimes evenings tell more about sadness. How can people say that they are a connoisseur of dusk? even though not a few admit that at dusk, that's when memories arise in our minds, like a rotating kaleidoscope. Dusk is like rain, cruel to evoke the memories.

Other side of sunset, in Kenting, Taiwan

I do not like to enjoy the dusk lingering especially while sitting or drinking coffee like people who always put captions on their social media profiles "sunset connoisseurs and coffee lovers". I'd rather just look at dusk for a moment and leave it.

It feels reassuring, enjoying the greatness of God's creation. If the morning sun rises signaling the start of new things, a new birth of body or soul, dusk for me is like a death, realizing there is an end to every life. Either our soul or this realm will be.

Thank you dusk with your golden glow, bursting through the branches of the trees, folding between the tall buildings. God always has a reason to create dusk, as a dividing line between day and night. Maybe so that we don't suddenly fall into disappointment at having lost at odds with time and tired of being at odds with days.

How unpretentious is a dusk, so serene and majestic. When dusk was present, the whole universe fell silent: still, without a sound. And the wind only spreads through the louvres of the window.

There is no turmoil that really stomps in the dusk, except for a beautiful paradox: where the calm sky is dimly lit by the tinge of the fire of the sun that refuses to set, there are memories that rise, there is longing that pierces the heart, and there is always a story that never over until the next dusk come and another.