1st March, 2020
Sitting on a rock ledge in Katoomba, my partner and I gazed out at the valley below us. A gentle evening breeze, ever so slight, stirred around us. Voices floated softly from the lookout above us.
We sat there and watched the colours of the Blue Mountains shift through various hues of yellow and orange and gold.
Each moment that passed by seemed to be somehow – miraculously, magnificently – more beautiful than the next. I sat in awe, bathed in the warm light of sunset, as the air around me grew cooler and I squinted into the setting sun, trying desperately to take in and to appreciate each moment of the sun’s gloriously colourful passage across the sky.
I spent my evening staring out at this view as the sky slowly shifted from summery blue to stunning golden glory.
And then, when I was thinking to myself that I had surely experienced one of the most beautiful sunsets, this happened.
They sky once more turned blue, but it was now the deep blue of oceans, streaked with almost-fluro pinks and yellows and oranges.
And I realised, that only once the moon had joined us and the sky had finally turned dark – only at that point – had I truly witnessed the most beautiful sunset.