Memorable writing that sparks imagination. Lean in. Hear the writer’s voice on the page.


By Joop Delahaye

Sunsets . . . always beautiful, no matter where or when.

Blindingly bright in the beginning, can’t look at it, then softening, slipping into the distant ocean . . . the water extinguishing the brightness and the heat and allowing the usual yellows and reds to persist, until they faded to purple and gone.

Sitting on a bluff at the Sea Ranch, or on Mount Tam’s west slopes, or the southern Oregon coast at Gold Beach, or on the Croatian coast at Sibenik . . . all notable, all full.

The late rays seemed to have an enhanced power of penetration into the soul, the heart. Replenishing spent fuel rods, battery cells, warming the humors.

The energy, the short-lasting blast easily pushes open the portals and shines into the nooks and crannies usually forgotten. Usually inaccessible.

Restoring full utilization of these organs, mechanisms, spaces . . . for a while.

The last bolt-the last ray that spears across the sea into the ventrum of the being, charges it for the night, however long, whatever season.

Then, gradual darkening.  Able to face it, not a fearful place. No danger here now.

The light stored inside creates comfort with the nocturnal.

Creates peace with the day past, the life behind, the life ahead.

Moving towards dreamscapes soon.

Joop Delahaye: Indonesian-Dutch, Australian, immigrant of many years.

Decompressing/recovering from too abundant writing in his career as a healthcare practitioner. Enjoying creative writing now.

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