About a year ago, I bought an impromptu ticket to visit Istanbul between Christmas 2011 and New Year's Day 2012. Though the city and, more broadly, Turkey both deserve a much longer visit, we packed as much as we could into a short time. One of the most relaxing things we did during these busy few days was to take a cruise along the Bosphorus Strait, the body of water that slices through the city and separates the European side from the Asian.
The cruise lasted all afternoon, but the highlight was the sweeping view of the sunset over the spires and minarets of Sultanahmet, the Old City. Cliched as it may be, there is something undeniably contemplative and peaceful about watching the world's progression from day to night. From the warm light and long shadows of late afternoon spring vibrant streaks of orange, crimson, and purple before all gives way to a graceful darkness, like the soft, inevitable lowering of the curtain after an engaging performance. And in that reflective moment, all is beautiful, and heartbreaking, and good.
The cruise lasted all afternoon, but the highlight was the sweeping view of the sunset over the spires and minarets of Sultanahmet, the Old City. Cliched as it may be, there is something undeniably contemplative and peaceful about watching the world's progression from day to night. From the warm light and long shadows of late afternoon spring vibrant streaks of orange, crimson, and purple before all gives way to a graceful darkness, like the soft, inevitable lowering of the curtain after an engaging performance. And in that reflective moment, all is beautiful, and heartbreaking, and good.
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