I’m ashamed to admit it’s been a long time since I just sat and watched a sunset. But this evening that is just what I did. I forced myself to sit still for 30 minutes and watch the sun set over Old Constantinople. It started its descent just above the Sulimaniye Mosque. Twinkling golden ripples on the water, the half-circle of the sun dipped below the pervasive cloud cover of the last few days. Ferries cut lines through the reflection on the water.
As the sun set deeper I saw lights on a container ship far off across Sultanhamet in the Sea of Marmara. Swallows darted in and out of the alleys, turning around buildings like a school of fish.
Sulimaniye’s mosque cast a long shadow upon the water of the Golden Horn, barely perceptible minarets rippled in the water.
When there wasn’t but a sliver of the sun left it seemed to rally, as if it could turn the entire motion of the planet around. I cheered it on.
Rise, rise up old sun, just a little while longer.
But then Istanbul, a city already pink, fuses into a seamless fiery magenta as the sun sets.
A cannon fires in the distance signaling the end of the fast. Let the feast begin.