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"i love sunsets," writes the young girl in Abilene, Tex.
"Sometime for me would you write about sunsets? I think
they're certainly one of God's great works."
They are, Stephanie. Whatever may preoccupy my
mind, I have only to pass a window which frames
the sun's farewell and I am lost in wonder.
At this moment, for example, I was on my way to the
kitchen. I passed the particular haven which is my
workroom view and was trapped in the magic meshes of the
end of day. And now I have no interest at all in whether
dinner becomes reality or burns in the process.
The flame of sun in clouds melts into mauve. The memory
of light above it is gold and yellow and some quite
elusive color I have never seen before. I will not see it
again, only this once, for each sunset is like no other,
as each day is never the same for any man.
And now the light is pale and old but no less lovely. The
pines are dreams and the land sleeps. The heaven once
blue in brilliance is tired and gentle, as though even
the color of it was meant to induce rest for the weary body
and solace for the tired sight. The clouds, feather-white
in the morning, are soiled with use and awkward as a
child who loses his grace when he falls asleep at play.
But the drama of day's decline is not yet complete, for I
have learned to wait for the first star, the signal of
night. It is a particularly bright star, this one, and I seem
to remember I have heard something scientific about it.
But I am as disinterested in the vital statistics as in
my kitchen waiting.
All I know about the star is all I need to know that it
lifts my eyes to its beacon and soothes me somehow
as it might if I were a lone sailor sighting
the lighthouse of home.
So we sit here together, the sunset and I. One of us
moves and changes and dims and passes away. The other
rests unchanged and waits the beginning of the
new play produced by night.
This is Longfellow's "between the dark and the daylight,"
but night for me will never lower. Night for me neither
threatens nor forebodes nor sets upon me like a
heavy curtain. Perhaps a part of the exhilaration within me
is the knowledge that beyond night comes another dawn,
another day. Perhaps that is a part of the enchant
ment, that darkness is not forever and light always
lies over the far horizon.
I can write no longer, for suddenly the sun remembers
earth and gives it a final glory of rose and turns a
gray sky blue again like an echo. And there in the
branch of the young tree I see it waiting.
The shining symbol of a promise.
The first star.
All-Transistor
General Electric
Portable Radios
FULL-SIZE TRANSISTOR. Built to take rugged outdoor fun,
its smartly styled cabinet is equally at home in any room. Long
range Ferra-Power antenna pulls in distant stations. 4-inch
speaker assures richer, fuller tone. Keyhole slot In back.. .use
as a wall radio, too. Choice of smart colors at no extra cost
POCKET SIZE-BIG POWER. It's hard to be
lieve there's so much power packed into this com
pact cabinet. 5 transistors plus 2 diodes step up
listening pleasure to a new high. Earphone Jack
for private listening. Choice of colors.
i W''' ' " 1 Modl P74
ml
10,000-HOUR RECHARGEABLE. One set of
rechargeable batteries plays up to 10,000 hours.
Batteries recharge automatically-just put radio
in recharger case and plug into any AC outlet.
&4ar written warranty on both parts and labor. Ganaral Elaetric
Companr, Radio Roottoor Dapartaxat, Brldaaport t, CoaaaetWat.
"Progress kOvrMosf mportont Phxhcf
GENERAL ELECTRIC
Family Wetklu, J""' "5I