It was warm out there. I was shirtless. The Sun sat dark red on the horizon and it was huge. You could look right at it. The black water stretched to reach its feet. I breathed in and held the handrail, watched the horizon melt around the Sun. How small we were against the grace of the heavens. Our petty dreams, our need for self. Our weak assurances.

I was the only one out there. I saw a whale emerge from the water and twist out there in front of the red. It hung there upside down in front of the Sun, it hung there careless and lazy, totally oblivious to us, to the human refuse of the boat, sacrificing our luck and lives for a goddamned dollar. It went back through and my heart swelled in my chest so fast that it cracked my bones. Something happened to me which I could not understand. I wept. I stood there and wept at the beauty of what I saw. I wept when I thought that the moment was meant for me and me alone, as I so badly wanted it to be that way. I so badly wanted to be chosen by the God there, to be pulled out amongst the clean cold blackness of the water, to stand naked on the back of a whale before the harmlessness of a sun which was now trained for damage. I wanted that scene, I wanted to be transcended into that scene forever. I wanted everything to be beautiful again. I wanted to be beautiful again.

It was cold, and getting colder. The temperature hovered just above freezing, but didn’t feel like it. I was all decked in knitted goods: hat, hand warmers, a scarf around my nose. I would move the scarf to take a sip of cocoa and then pull it back up again before I wound up like Rudolf.

The house had heating. The house was cozy and full of abandoned fleeces waiting to be picked up. I could have gone in, but I didn’t. It was worth the cold because of the horizon. The snow, unblemished by feet, was pristine. The sun painted the sky first in pink, then in gold, and then orange and red, ever darkening. The colors reflected off of the whiteness in subtle hints and hues. The clouds gave it all dimension, soaking up the rays with their fluffy underbellies.

I suppose this would be the part where I pick up a camera and snap pictures. The part where I try to cement the memory with cheap knockoffs. But sometimes you just have to enjoy the little things, the short things, while they last. Sometimes you should let them happen and admire them while they do, and let them pass with grace when it’s time for them to go.

And so I watched, motionless, as the sun glided down from on high and artfully painted the sky.

It was 1974, I was stationed in Hong Kong and I was Guard Commander one night.

It was getting late and walked outside the Guardroom to check some guys that were leaving the barracks to spend the night on the town.

I noticed that the whole area was lit in this deep red haze and looking out westward I was dumbstruck by the most gorgeous deep red sunset I've ever seen. It was one of those moments the leave you rooted to the spot and just stare in awe at natures power and magnificence.

Had I an iPhone then I would have filled the memory with photos of it.