Shimmering

One of those springtime sunsets so vivid and powerful and luminous that it brings the shoreline witness to her knees.  At the same time, it makes her want to sing and dance (or more likely hobble and lurch) along the beach in sheer jubilation.

The descending sun pours its light over the lake like liquid gold, and the western shore is merely a suggestion of misty hills seen through the shimmer.  Only a fool would try to paint such liminal moments, and even the best of photos seldom captures more than a scrap of the magic of them, but I am a fool and admit it cheerfully.

If these sunsets were potions, they would pack enough radiant power to convey immortality.  Even old Croesus can't match such riches, but he would be entranced by all this gold.