Light Journal Numbero One

A little before 8:00 p.m. on the volleyball courts near Seahawk Village

The sun is starting to set and the great mellon ball of orange and yellow is beaming in my eyes.  We are standing at the same height so it is like a faceoff, I'm betting he is going to win.  The sun shines down in eight distinct rays of white and cream.  The shadows are harsh and look German expressionist off the large (but cheaply built buildings).  The sun casts a large shadow panning across the pond and on into the forest (very small forest.)  My sunglasses are useless now as the sun is dropping faster then I can pick the grass.  It is magic hour now, the beautiful period where the sun is set and the moon casts it's light across the entire atmosphere around us.  The trees around me are dark and have a black tint, instead of the beautiful pine green North Carolina is known for.  The sky is a dark blue with shades of white and purple.  The lights in the parking lot are starting to flicker, doing there best to produce the artificial light that people like myself seem to prefer.  Shades of sliver glare off the black water like the Chesapeake Bay does at night.  The dirt piles around me are dark and the sand I sit in starts getting cold.  The lights slowly come on and every third car blends in with the falling darkness.  The sky lines are slowly fading away and the glimmer of shine starts to dull.  The white of the sidewalks turn into a light shade of gray.  I sit and watch as magic hour fades away for another day and darkness descends over the desolate campus.