Seattle Sunset

The neighborhood was full of people enjoying the summer evening. People standing in their front lawns, casually talking with their neighbors. Fathers guiding their children as they unsteadily steered their bicycles along the sidewalk. Mothers pushing strollers while the children riding inside stared out in wonder, attempting to take in the activity around them. Families exiting the neighborhood ice cream shop, cool, frozen desserts in hand. A steady stream of cars passing along the neighborhood’s narrow, curving streets.

At the neighborhood’s center was a large manmade lake, rimmed with tall, green trees. A curving concrete path wound through the surrounding meadow. Couples jogged along the trail, careful to avoid anyone who crossed the path. A wading pool which at any other time would have been a noisy, chaotic scene, was nearly silent, save for the occasional splash of water. Even the lake itself was still, with nothing to disrupt the calm, slow motion of the water. People could be seen sitting along its edge, some in pairs, others alone.

All the while, the sun was setting. The light blue sky was marked with patches of gray and black. The sun, in its final moments that day, cast a pink and orange hue over the clouds. As it began to disappear over the horizon, the sun’s fading glare cast a light, glassy reflection over the water. The people sitting along its edge became mere silhouettes.

I had been walking through the neighborhood, enjoying the evening, my camera in hand. Passing through an opening in the trees, I was awestruck by what I saw. I stopped, pointed my camera, and captured it on film . . this Seattle sunset.