There is a magic in a sunrise and a sunset. The sky changes in color and creates an experience that absorbs the watcher, Behind this field of green the sun sets almost apologetically for staining the sky.
When insect wings are glistening in the beam
Of the low sun, and mountain-tops are bright,
Oh, let me, by the crystal valley-stream,
Wander amid the mild and mellow light;
And while the barn owl pipes his evening lay,
Give me one lonely hour to hymn the setting day.