The last light of the day – the Bowdoin -Orient

The sunset marks the light at the end of the day. On a few nights, the sky in pink and orange and maybe Lila Lellen, but on others the sky could stay in a cloudy haze before the darkness took over.

My father has a hand to know whether a night has a good sunset or not. For him, a “good” sunset color painting means the sky. He will look out of the rear kitchen window, his hands on both sides of the wash basin, his face pressed close against the glass, and examine the clouds and the placement of the sun in the sky. There is really no rhyme or reason behind his installment game, but most of the time it is miraculously correct.

In my hometown there is a beach in Cape Cod, where every night dozens of locals and tourists flock alike to catch the sunset. Beach Skaket is located on the city's bay. At low tide, the beach extends far into the horizon and reveals a huge landscape of structured sand that fits perfectly in the feet, with flights of flat water basins, which are littered with hermit crabs and scattered oyster traps. But when the flood rises, water comes in and only leaves a sand between the edge of the parking lot and the tip of the incoming waves. This place is one of the few places on the east coast of the country where the sun fades into the horizon.

When the daylight fades over the city, a steady car winds over the narrow streets that lead to the water edge. The parking lot is quite small, with a sandy layer that blurs the line markings of individual areas. All participants, even if they unconsciously watch the few rooms directly at the crime scene, and enable a comfortable experience within the heat or cooling of the car, whereby the additional bonus to escape the influx of mosquitoes at sunset.

In winter, when the wind lashes over the water, blows unpleasantly sand on her face, people will stop for a quick look, just spy the head out of the car window or defy a few steps on the sand. But in summer, children build sand castles in the damp sand, the couples of the couples on a towel over a bottle of wine and dogs that run the amok in the small water pools and all wait for the little moment, a few seconds when the sky breaks out in color.

One evening, when my father and I went to the skate at the sunset, we met an older man, probably at the end of the 1960s. He mainly fell on the large, professional -looking camera that dangled around his neck. Many people take photos of sunset; Some crouch on the sand to get a shot of sun reflection on the water or to go to the most distant tip of mud grass in order to get to the sun as close as possible, but most shots are only drawn from a simple phone. He wore an oversized black and white uni-jacket and dark blue jeans that were hidden in knee-high dirty boots, even though the tide was low. When he passed us, we exchanged a short smile when the back of his jacket “Bowdoin” revealed over his shoulders in Kühnen embroidery.

In the conversation, this gentleman revealed that he had visited the sunset at the Beach Skecket every evening every evening in the past two years. That is 730 consecutive sunsets. 730 nights when he never knows whether the slumping of darkness will bring living tones of orange and red dancing in the sky or a gray cover when the rain is hanging down, but hold them all still.

The sunset is a place of community. You never know who you will meet as people from near and far to enjoy the beauty of the moment in unity. It is as if the chaos of life lasts for the few moments when the sun approaches closer and closer to the horizon. But as soon as the glow has passed and the sun has gone, everyone rises to their cars and returns to life that they had put into a break for this short moment of appreciation for the natural world.

Regardless of the excitement or grief of a certain day, the sun is always set, and a new day will always begin.

Ella Ferrucci is a member of the 2026 class.