The evening sky morphs into a fiery palette of colors, accented by an array of hazy clouds stretched into thin, feathery strands hovering in front of the burning horizon. I watch, as I have many times before, always in awe of the amazing sight. How quickly it grows and wanes; stretches and recoils; intensifies and calms. I watch, because I can. I watch, because I must. Gazing into the distance, I’m entranced. For a brief moment, I am anywhere, and I am nowhere. Regardless of the number of times my eyes have taken in this sight, it is never the same. Can one possibly tire of such a vision? I see, because I can. I see, because I must. To choose not to see, would, to me, feel like a tiny death. The death of truly being alive. The death of breathing in all that is around me. The death of awareness. The death of appreciation for things outside of myself. The death of hope. No, I cannot choose to look away. Moreover, I will not choose to look away.