Exhausted at the end of a hopefully succesful day's apartment search on the Cote D'Azur, first we took a train, then we climbed on a bus to our not very distant, yet oddly slow to get to, temporary home. The bus traveled from day to night though it only went about eight miles.
There was no room for us to sit down, so we stood, hands welded to the nearest pole to keep us standing. It looks easier than it is. Out the window was the Mediterranean Sea, a big thing just absolutely full of water, and the sun going down cast oozing saturated colors rippling through the sky above it. It was so pretty that one lady crammed herself into a window to take pictures of it, leaning into quietly appalled French people. She didn't know what she was doing, though, and I could see on her phone that the picture would be no good. She could see it too.
I didn't take a picture of the sunset because I am sort of polite and because I know that trying to do so from a bus isn't likely to work out for anyone; the passengers, the photographer, or the sunset.
But I might have a sunset picture for you from a few days ago, when the moon was full, if I can find it.
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