I watched the sunset in three places in the city, on the river and on the sea. Each time different, each time special, but each time with the same feeling - something sublime, a moment that is never repeated the saIn the city, the sun breaks through the densely packed buildings, reflects off the glass windows and creates golden reflections on the asphalt. The lights of street lamps slowly take over his role, and people in a hurry rarely stop to notice him. But I notice him. I watch the sky become a canvas of orange and purple hues as the bustling city continues to hum below me. There is something melancholic about a city sunset – a beauty hidden in the concrete, a light fading between the buildings but still lingering in the sky.
On the river, the sunset is quieter, more intimate. I stand on the shore and watch how the last rays color the water in a golden-red shade. The surface of the river becomes a mirror, mirroring all the colors of the sky, and the waves slowly smear them, merging them into a gentle play of shadows and light. The wind brings the smell of water and leaves.
And at the sea... The sunset there is something else. Something powerful, almost sacred. The sky and the sea merge into fire - red, orange, gold, and the waves become liquid gold. I stand barefoot on the sand, I feel the warmth of the day that is leaving and the smell of salt that seeps into every pore. The sun is slowly sinking, while the last rays dance on the waves, as if they don't want to leave. Then I feel something like nostalgia, even if I don't know what. Maybe a nostalgia for a day that is disappearing, for something that I can't keep, for a beauty that I can only observe and remember.
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