I’m not sure when was the last time that I really watched a sunset. Really watched it.

If photographic evidence is any indicator, it was nearly two years ago.

In August of 2008 my husband and I (and our tiny 6 week old embryo) rode the ferry to Hokkaido. We watched the sunset on that boat, every second of it. We lingered until the sun had sunk well below the horizon. Until our features were blurred because darkness had fallen.

There are very few experiences in life that recreate that feeling, the magic that you witness when watching the sun sink. But tonight I realized how lucky I am to have someone, a very little someone, that can evoke those same feelings of awe I get when watching (or even reminiscing) about the setting sun.

As I slowly rocked my babe to sleep, I watched his face, his tiny features. As his muscles relaxed, his eyelids got heavy. They drooped and slowly sank just like the sun after a long day. Heavier and heavier until, finally, the shut. Just below the horizon. Asleep. Gone until the new day.

Wait a second! Unlike the setting sun, my babe will be up (likely several times) before the sun rises to greet the day. If I can look at those wakings as opportunities to watch him fall asleep again, to watch that magical moment one more time, well, then it will be a beautiful thing.

This post was written as part of the Moms’ 30-minute blog challenge over at Steady Mom.