Here is a shot from the Esplanade in Boston – one of the few places you can see the sunset in the city. I felt like writing a little story, so here it is. It’s kind of long, perhaps overly romantic, and definitely a bit sad, but that’s what I see when I look at this photo. Oh, and it’s not a true story. It may be, I have no idea, but I wrote it more from the perspective of the person sitting on the bench – there was something very bittersweet about the whole thing. I Remember I remember the forest’s edge where we used to linger on midsummer days as we watched the sun’s light yield slowly to the beckoning night – a beautiful combination of yellow hues, jaded skies, and fiery reflections burning in her eyes and lighting mine in turn. We tried desperately to hold on to what was never meant to stay, whispering slowly as lovers often do in hopes that their love will echo on for eternity – an eternity that only they can hear. I remember the tree and the bench underneath where we used to sit, just laughing for hours. I would watch her delicate smile form carefully as her hair cascaded around her face, revealing beauty with every movement. And though our laughter would fade with the sun, we could still hear it in each others eyes. I remember when I lost her, when they took her from me and said that our time at the forest’s edge was at an end. She would look at me with those eyes and say simply, “Remember.” Those were her last words to me, and they will echo on for eternity as I return to the forest’s edge to sit by our bench under the tree… to see her smile once again, hear her laughter fill the air, and watch the sunset in her eyes. And I remember. I remember and I smile back in hopes that I will see her once again.