The best five minutes of the day

Sunsets on a lake are great to watch, except when the sky is mostly cloudless. In that event it hurts to look west, the glare painful and you wait for the sun to touch the treetops across the water. Then begin the best five minutes of the day.

Five minutes is (very roughly) how long it takes for the sun to sink from treetops to oblivion. In that time, the entire scene changes, as if a hand slowly, slowly turned a celestial dimmer switch. The west takes on a brilliant glow, the glare less oppressive with each minute. The far shore of the lake, rendered almost featureless black by the intense backlighting, gradually takes on definition. When the sun is gone the whole scene bathes in mellow light. Now any clouds take on a rosy tint against the sky’s soft blue.

By this time of course, the wind has died, the lake’s surface mostly still, the small, smooth waves just enough to lend a dreamy motion to the sky’s reflection. Things also seem to quiet with the sun’s departure, as if the overpowering light had created a subliminal noise, now silenced.

Now comes a restful hour as slowly daylight fades, a perfect time to reflect or just let the day’s stress seep away. All brought on by those decisive five minutes as the treeline snuffed out the oppressive sun.