I have seen many movies that featured either cowboys riding off into the sunset, or loner rebels riding off on motorcycles into the setting sun.  It is a powerful image and though I find it hard to explain the appeal, I certainly understand it.

Today, after a weekend out, I found myself in the car driving home as the sun was setting.  Thanks to an indirect route, I saw the stunning scene to my left, in front of me, and spectacularly in my rear view mirror.  It was beautiful and reminded me that I had also been up to see the sun rise.  While this is not particularly difficult in winter, it is rare to acknowledge it.

So I drove along, with those red and orange colours that are only fully described when using words like magenta, sienna, and mandarin, or phrases like fire red, blood red, burnt orange.  With the car rumbling on me and the opportunity to progress through the gearbox, I thought about the day and its ebbs and flows.

I turned on the radio and got my own personal soundtrack,  I heard David Bowie’s Ziggy Stardust, Time of Good Riddance by Green Day, Sweet Jane by the Velvet Underground.  I could only conclude that everything was good and well in the world (knowing full well that it wasn’t, but enjoying the illusion).

As Perfect Moments go, that one was a feast for the senses.