Sunsets

Sunsets happen every day.

In our natural world, a day is defined by its sunsets and sunrises. Here on Earth we are accustomed to seeing the sun set every 24 hours, or in the case of cloudy weather, we trust it to happen.

Sunset from a cruise ship off the coast of Mexico.                                              Photo courtesy Charles Anderson

Other places in our natural world have different length days but still we define those days by the time it takes for one sunset to follow another. The Man on the Moon sees a sunset once every 29.5 of our days, while your typical Martian sees a sunset every twenty-four and one-half hours of our time and observers on Metis, the closest of Jupiter's 79 confirmed moons, would see a sunset every twelve hours. 

Sometimes our sunsets are spectacular, sometimes rather nondescript, depending on what our atmosphere is doing. We might say that sunsets in other places are otherworldly. The Man on the Moon, where there is no atmosphere, would see the sun simply disappear and light turn to dark without twilight. With an atmosphere less than 1% of Earth's, our Martian would see a a small pink sun descend through a cloudless dusty sky and set without ceremony.

In our world, as in most, sunset is followed by sunrise.

Sunset reflected on the leaves on the east side of Edmonds Marsh.

Sunrise on the same setting.

From my north-facing deck I can't see the sun rise or set this time of year but I do see the results as the warm light of sunset or the cooler light of sunrise is reflected on the leaves of nearby vegetation. 

As the sun comes up in the morning, I look forward to my new day by mentally reviewing my day's agenda. On some days, being retired and having no appointments means I can choose which way to jump. I try to make my days meaningful knowing that sunset will surely follow.

Using an analogy, the sun rose on my life nearly eighty years ago. The hours have passed swiftly, a few minutes of happiness here, a few storm clouds there, a solar eclipse here, some rainbows here and there, but the warm light of sunset is approaching. 

The duration of other human lives vary. Some see the sun set at an early age. The light of others is snuffed out in what seems to be their prime. Others join me in my approaching dotage, watching our sun set while rocking away the hours on the porch, so to speak.

We can't choose the time of our sunset, but we can live healthy well maintained lives, helping nature create a beautiful sunset when the appointed time comes.

As I look back on my life, I see things I could have done better, but I also see things I did do better. My bucket list is still long and my time is short. Guess I'll have to do my best to make the remaining time productive and as meaningful as possible.

35,000 feet aboard Japan Airlines. More travels, more adventures.

On a different scale, the sun also rises and falls on countries. 

My cohort and I have been privileged to live through the midday of these United States. We have seen our country become a major player on the world stage during WWII. we've seen the genius of George C. Marshall in helping our vanquished enemies rebuild and become friends instead of being trampled upon as losers. We have seen two states added to the Union and looked with awe at amazing advances in industry and technology. 

Are we now seeing the sun in the afternoon sky of our country?

As a traveler, I try to be observant of my surroundings. During our recent travels in Japan, I noticed the cleanliness and up-to-date maintenance at Haneda and Fukuoka Airports in Japan. The same things were obvious in the Incheon (Seoul) airport, which has been rated the world's best every year since 2005 by Airports Council Worldwide. 

By the way, Incheon is the correct romanization (formerly romanized as Inchon) for the Korean pronunciation of the word that means "kind river" in Korean.

Centerpiece sculpture in a concourse intersection in Incheon Airport

When traveling between American airports it isn't so obvious, but when we arrived in San Francisco International from overseas last month, I felt embarrassed that foreigners would see what I was seeing. The place was dingy, there were greasy parts strewn around the broken down end of a people mover with no maintenance people in evidence, the carpets were dirty, even the escalators were filthy with grime between the raised grids on each moving step. Seattle was no better. 

My friend, Jack, admires Eric Hoffer, who has many quotable sayings about the importance of maintenance, one of Hoffer's best is: "To me there is an aura of grandeur about the dull routine of maintenance: I see it as a defiance of the teeth of time. It is easier to build than maintain."

Incidentally, another one of my favorite Hoffer quotes is: "Rudeness is the weak man's imitation of strength."

But, back to maintenance. I think Americans have an aversion to maintaining infrastructure. Our bridges are in need of repair (Approx. 10% at last count), our roads are breaking down with potholes in many places, and I won't even mention roadside litter and graffiti. 

Again, comparing my recent experiences in Japan to what I see here, even two-lane country roads were well maintained.

Well marked and pothole-free rural road. Pedestrians and bikes use the red sidewalk which is porous so rain drains through.

I didn't see a pothole anywhere. Most of the expressways are toll roads so they have more maintenance money and the highways reflected that with smooth, well-maintained roads. 

Here we have gas taxes, but more than money earmarked for maintenance and upkeep, I think it is a cultural difference. Westerners, and Americans in particular, find building new highways and bridges exciting. Fighting rust, repairing potholes and maintenance in general, not so much.

Does poor maintenance mean the sun is setting on our country? Probably not, but I think that proclivity to evade maintenance extends to our politicians too. It's so sexy to implement new programs, especially programs to help our people, but it's hard to maintain them. 

Just like roads and bridges, our well-intentioned public support initiatives, starting with Social Security clear up to Obamacare, need maintenance once they are put in place. Social Security started out as a program to help support retired workers. Now it's like a hydra with heads, or should I say hands, giving money to anyone our politicians think needs it. 

While the intent may be good, and while there's no glamour in cutting back, the programs all need to be maintained by checking for fraud, discontinuing parts that have served their purpose, rooting out the lazy and otherwise maintaining the systems. 

Unfortunately, as we see more programs and safety nets installed, we also see an unintended side effect of more people who are inclined to kick back and let others work while the layabouts, thieves and hucksters reap the benefits.

As more people decline to work, more ride the economic wagon. When too many ride and too few pull, and when we neglect maintenance and ignore appearances, our country will see its sun set.