When the polar day ends and our endless sun begins to hide behind the horizon again, we don't get upset. After all, no less amazing sunsets and sunrises come back to us.
And if the sunrise is quite difficult to catch at first, because it happens very early and quickly. Then the sunsets turn into some kind of fantastic spectacle.
The sun is very lazy, reluctantly goes behind the hills, trying to illuminate as much territory as possible with its rays. Does not want to give up. I think it likes how we welcome and sincerely love the sun here in the north.
Therefore, even with the onset of night, it does not go far, and a couple of weeks after the end of the polar day, sunsets here last for a few hours. One of them was reflected in the sky, in the water and in my lens.
I was struck by the similarity of the sunset sky with a dying bonfire. I think my physics teacher would say, "of course they are similar, in both cases it is a combustion process, you uncouth barbarian." But sometimes I just want to be a superstitious savage and see the world a little magical and symbolic.
Perhaps like the people who gathered on the shore of the bay at this sunset hour. Local fishermen or just passers-by like me. Frozen in this moment, not so much striving to achieve some specific goals, but enjoying the spectacle.
Elements of the industrial urban landscape emphasize the brightness of what is happening no worse than natural objects. Therefore, oddly enough, even loading cranes in the port against the background of this sky look no less beautiful than the peaks of the mountains. Indefatigable, inanimate mechanisms, still interrupting their work, subordinate to the harmony of the sunset.
The waters of the bay turned into molten lava, blazing even brighter than the sky in the glare of the fire.
The gigantic northern ships are the only ones who can resist the blazing gulf, like indestructible islands of stones on a molten surface.
But the flame fades sooner or later and twilight falls on the earth, putting life on pause, hiding the fuss.
Everything must end, everything must change. The endless northern day is followed by sunsets, in the light of which you can distinguish the signs of early autumn.
Winter will follow autumn, with its endless night. And so from goal to year, they replace each other. And that is why all these phenomena are so beautiful, because they are finite. If they were eternal, I'm afraid they could get bored quickly…