I have always viewed sunsets, in addition to their aesthetic contribution to the world, with a lens of redemption. No matter the happenings, good or bad, that occur throughout each day, the sunset transitions our immediate conception of the world from a state of consciousness to a state of nothingness. And after our sleep, we awake to another day and forget about the sunset that occurred the previous day. We could treat the previous day as a dream, and sometimes, especially in moments of sharing happiness with those we love, it often does feels too blissful to be real life. Like a dream.

I wonder how many sunsets I will continue to see in my life. After all, life is very finite, and I could lose my ability to appreciate sunsets at any moment in time. I wonder how many sunsets I will forget, or in the same boat, how many memories of those cherished I will forget. Because, it seems to me no matter how hard I try to preserve the beauties in life that I try to experience, the only certainty that exists is the fact that all moments will come to an end. Or, perhaps, it is the very definition that says it all — that it is necessary that beauty is finite. Without the coming and going of moments, how can we say that we are living at all?