Assisting the Sunset

    Every evening my phone alarm goes off at 7:00 with a reminder labeled "Sunset". At this point in time, I put down what I am doing and walk to the music building on campus where I sit in the chairs outside and assist the sunset (mornings are not my thing, so sunrises and I don't necessarily get along). By doing this, I have seen how unique each sunset is, like a snowflake. They each are composed of similar colors, but these colors never appear in the same arrangement twice: I experience a warm, orange sunset on Monday; a dark, stormy sunset on Tuesday; and a rosy, pink sunset on Wednesday. The trees around me sway in unison being painted by God's paintbrush and the wildlife switch shifts. They birds go to sleep, and the bats wake up. The butterflies fly away, and the mosquitoes soar in. The horned frogs go silent, and the actual frogs start talking. During all these changes around me, I simply sit and watch (and I am getting pretty good at it).

    My usual visit with the sunset usually lasts around 30 to 45 minutes. In this time, I have a few things I scratch off the to-do list. First, I watch the sun set, and through my expertise I have found something incredible: it always starts in the sky, and it ends under the horizon. This daily repetition never changes, yet the sunsets always change, and this is where the enjoyment stems from. We can always predict the sunset will happen (hopefully), but the hard part is predicting the colors, the air, the critters around you, and just how late to the sunset I will be. Second, I battle the mosquitoes in true Texan fashion. I swat them away, and they put up an honorable fight. I never come back unscathed, as I wield countless bug bites like girl scout badges. Lastly, I commune with a friend. I always extend the invite to a comrade and nature is meant to be shared. I find it to be a great time for me to connect with a friend, share each other's lives, and lead the student section cheering on the sun.