Its a sort of tradition. Whenever we are travelling in Ripley we try to find an appropriate spot around dusk to park up and fully immerse ourselves in the end of the day.
Whilst dawn for me is a time for solitude and quiet contemplation, sunset is best celebrated with good company, quiet laughter, liquid refreshment and tasty snacks.
At home we all too often miss the sunset, watching the news or caught up with other distractions. But Ripley takes a us there, right up to the edge of it.
See? She reminds us all. See what you have been missing?
Stop. Get out into the golden hour. Get a feel for the lay of the land. The chill in the air, the flow of the sky. The dusk chorus of birds and trees and surf and traffic and light. One great slow diminuendo as the earth rolls over to sleep.
Perhaps strike up a conversation with a fellow traveller before ambling back to set up the camp table and pop some chairs.
See? She shows us. You are only offered a limited number of these….try not to miss too many.
“Soon it got dusk, a grapy dusk, a purple dusk over tangerine groves and long melon fields; the sun the color of pressed grapes, slashed with burgandy red, the fields the color of love and Spanish mysteries.”― Jack Kerouac, On the Road
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