Having been fascinated by time and beauty most of my life, I would love to brag that I always had my eyes set on sunsets, tying these two together by putting a spectacular spotlight on that single moment, forcing you into a different pace to truly admire it. Like in theatre, it is demanding a continuous attention to what is happening in the here and now, as if everything of any significance takes place at that specific moment.
Nature knows best when to surprise us with the more outrageous sunsets, the ones that treat us with the Royal Grace suitable for the Kings we deserve to be.
A really good sunset forces us to believe all of its extravaganza is on display for our own private pleasure, our comfort, our gaze in amazement. This might just be our reward for making it through the day and for staying connected without drifting off too far.
At the same time we realize the randomness of this perquisite gift. We can’t count on nature to be presenting us with it on a daily basis and even when we are quite sure it is all going to happen again because all the right omens are there, it might still end in disappointment when nature decides to give priority to darkness without any formalities.
When we bought Les Pierres there was no role to play for sunsets, with the breathtaking view still blocked by feral trees and wild shrubs. Most of the work opening it up and turning it into the movie theatre it has since become has been done by Ivory, carefully calculating what to keep and what to remove. This way he has ensured us of easy accessible front row seats for whenever the firework erupts.
I’ve seen many impressive coucher du soleil (French for putting the sun to sleep) with Ivory, all over the world. I treasure them all and between them, the ones in Les Pierres are given a golden lining. In all honesty, I can no longer brag. My predilection for sunsets hasn’t always been around, it started the day I met him.
