That fleeting moment when the sun bows out and the streetlights blink awake—there’s something magical about it. A hush, a shift, a quiet handing over of time.
Day’s last breath, night’s first whisper. The night creatures stretch, the day ones retreat. And for a brief, golden moment, both share the stage.
Transitions are like that. They hold the past, hint at the future, and let us linger in the present just long enough to feel the change.
And isn’t that where the real magic happens?
The incredible thing about sunsets? They bear an uncanny resemblance to sunrises.
One marks an ending, the other a beginning—but in truth, they are part of the same cycle. Every sunset quietly hands over the sky to the next sunrise, and life moves forward.
It’s the time when birds are close to home—some flying away, others flying toward. They don’t dwell on what was, only on where they’re headed next.
Both sunrises and sunsets captivate us. Maybe because they symbolize change—a closure of sorts and a fresh startwaiting in the wings.
The birds know the secret. They embrace the light, the dark, and everything in between. And most importantly, they fly.
Maybe it’s time we did too.