The sun was waiting for us at seven fifteen as it seems to do in April, positioned precicely between two Downland bushes.
We turned behind The Downs Golf Club's par five second, puffing, and there, see?, millions and millions of miles away, but in the exact same place it had been yesterday and the day before, at the exact same time.
How does it do that?
Good evening, it said.
We agreed and said thank you.
It had been busy laying out a feast too; stretching, as the valley did, to East Dean and northwards to Jevington, cast in gold.
And weirdly, we noted, no queue.
Are there honestly better things to be doing with your life? Are there two sun sets going on in Hampden Park?
Have people forgotten
What a sunset can do
For the soul which is suffering
As ours tend to