A few years ago, my husband and I spent a week in Paris, leisurely strolling through the city’s streets and sipping coffee at its cafes.
One night, we decided to eat dinner at a tiny creperie. We got a window seat and ordered crepes and a carafe of cider.
Suddenly, there was a commotion outside. Taxis slowed, scooters stopped, and pedestrians began to congregate on the sidewalk. Some people whipped out phones and started taking pictures. Others drove by and honked. Some pedestrians shielded their eyes.
“What’s happening?” my husband asked me.
While I had a better view than he did, I couldn’t see the cause of the commotion.
“I can’t tell,” I said. “But I’m going to go outside to see.”
Once on the street, I turned to the right and was gobsmacked by a breathtaking view. The setting sun was lined up perfectly between Paris’ low lying apartment complexes and office buildings as it sunk toward the horizon. The unobstructed view created a spotlight effect, where its light was blinding, and its heat was palpable.
The sunset brought the Paris neighborhood we were in to a standstill. Bystanders stood there, enthralled. Passengers asked their taxis to stop. Others jumped off motorcycles to capture the view. Some stood in the intersection with cameras, trying to find the right angle to capture the sun’s stunning display. We were momentarily connected, watching this gift from nature.
A few minutes later, it was over. The sun set. The taxis sped away. I went back to the restaurant. Pedestrian continued their journeys. Paris zoomed back to life.
But I think of that moment now. How everyday occurrences can stop us in our tracks. How nature can be healing. That however diverse we may be, a beautiful sunset can connect us.
In this scary time, we are facing a lot of uncertainty. But every day, the sun rises, and it sets. It can serve as a reminder to pause, to take in its beauty, to breathe deeply, and to remember we are not alone — even if it may feel that way right now.