Winter Crimson

{word count:272}

I took a walk outside to watch the winter sun fall away beneath the Florida horizon. The unusually cold air did not bother me as I sat upon the sand dunes. I pondered, transfixed, at the sight before me.

The empty beach spread out before me and I watched as the last of the suns light created a portrait engraved in red. Scooping up a large handful of sand, I held it up to the sky staring as it slipped between my fingers, falling to the ground beneath or scattered by the wind, cast in the deep shadows and brilliant highlights of scarlet.

The sky and beach had all been washed in red, that tattooed everything. I craved to some how bottle or box this piece of crimson serenity I had now. To keep this portrait that spread before me encased in the ruby light of a winter's setting sun. I thought of how I needed a personal rainbow, for when there was no color, to wash everything in and only gray showed through.

Oh, how quick the sun can drop away! I thought as I stood to leave.

Wiping the sand away I knew then that no matter how long I lived or anything else that came to be I would always have this moment, this image, my personal rainbow. This beach where everything had been washed in red, that tattooed everything was my personal rainbow. A portrait to keep, written in the bottle and box of memory. I didn't leave it on the sand or wish it away on weekend.

Oh, how quick the sun can drop away.