Elijah, age 22 months, just ran in to where I was sitting and started hopping up and down, looking like he was doing a Maori war dance. He gestured broadly and talked excitedly, but I couldn't understand him.
Finally, he closed my laptop and said, "C'mon, Mom!"
So I followed him. Through the kitchen and out the back door he trotted, looking back to be sure I was following. When we reached the back balcony, he gestured excitedly at the sky and said, "SOOOOO Pitty!"
I looked up--all the clouds were pink and orange in a gorgeous sunset, backed by that particularly brilliant blue that comes just before dusk. "Sooo PITTY!" he said again, looking awed. "See?"
I sat out on the chair on the balcony, holding him and watching the sky as he gaped and awed and jabbered excitedly, pointing at the sky, then down in the yard ("peent!" he said, pointing in the yard--the light was, indeed, rather pink on everything). I finally said, 'Do you like that sunset?' "Uh?" he said. "The pretty orange clouds are called the sunset," I explained. "Sun.Set," he said, "Soooo pitty couds."
Then he pointed down at the neighbor's bush, which was glowing with fall leaves in just the same colors as the sky. "Pitty eaves. Ornge, pint. Sooo pitty."
We sat until it got dark, looking at the fall leaves, looking at the sky, listening to the breeze and watching the leaves rustle above us, watching the clouds change colors.
Sunsets are one of the best things in the world. Sunsets through the eyes of a toddler are even better.