Sunset at 2308

Sunset can be a nostalgic, sentimental time, even maudlin (comes from Mary Magdalene, which the English pronounce "Mary Maudlin," as the weeping woman), but it doesn’t need to be. When we were at the University of Michigan fifty years ago and I was 27 instead of 77, we lived in a mainly student housing development in Ann Arbor. It was obviously a World War II housing project for military or civilian war workers. To the west of us was a wide open field that often yielded magnificent sunsets. Sometimes -- especially at the end of our time there when Linda and the children had taken the train home to Panama City and I stayed behind to finish exams and work with the movers to pack us up for our move to Japan -- I would go sit out in the field, watch the sunset, and write poetry. Incredibly mawkish doggerel. All the more so with a couple of Ann Arbor beers.

No poet, I’m no photographer either, but my iPhone takes good pictures here in Alfred’s front yard.

Creation is so lovely that sometimes I wish I were starting life over instead of looking at the sunset.

Tom in +Time