There's a symphony of light each night here in Omiš, the sleepy hamlet on the Cetina River where we've landed for a spell.
The sunsets here are kindled of wonder, visual inspiration, ocular poetry. Wende Valentine, Lila, Ryrie, and I were talking the other night as we watched the evening display, and the kids asked if I liked sunrise or sunset better.
Honestly, I hadn't given it much thought before, but the New Englander in me wanted to say of course sunrise: the start of a new day, waste not, want not. But, on reflection, there's a beautiful interconnectedness in the sun's metronomic rising and setting: as the Adriatic turns ablaze with sunlight prismed by autumnal thunderstorms, and we bid goodbye to another day, that same sun dropping below our horizon is just poking out its head in New Zealand (our rough antipodes here in Croatia). The end is the beginning, and the beginning the end.
We're all connected, we share the same little blue ball hurtling through space, we share the sunrises and the sunsets, the beginnings and ends, and everything in between.
So, do I prefer sunrise or sunset?
Yes.
