Countryside Sunset Quotes

She was too honest, too natural for this frightened man; too remote from his tidy laws. She was, after all, a country girl; disordered, hysterical, loving. She was muddled and mischievous as a chimney-jackdaw, she made her nest of rags and jewels, was happy in the sunlight, squawked loudly at danger, pried and was insatiably curious, forgot when to eat or ate all day, and sang when sunsets were red.

But what I remember is the countryside then, the brilliance of outdoors and outwindows, and the sunlight streaming through the lozenge shapes of the glass, and we were locked away from it, locked inside to worship. And there was the sun out there for everyone else to see. Good God, tell me Clovis wasn't lonely at dawn. Tell me he wasn't sick at the sunset.

Let us freely walk in the countryside, like a horse peacefully walking towards sunset without any particular purpose!

I enjoy waking up before the weather. It never rains at 4:00AM. Yes, it’s always cold, but it’s not an uncomfortable cold; it’s the cold of an engine at rest, a day that has yet to fire into life. At this time, everything is fresh and crisp, as if it’s new and still in its wrapping. Sunsets are beautiful, but the light fades to darkness. It’s like watching a candle burn itself out. The dawn is the birth of a new day; the sun spills colours into the clouds like a child’s paintbrush swirling in a pot of water. The countryside has such a beautiful sadness about it; a distant tractor ambles slowly along a furrowed field like a tear on a cheek.

Tomorrow, at dawn, the moment the countryside is washed with daylight, I will leave. You see, I know that you wait for me. I will go through forest, I will go across the mountains. I cannot rest far from you for long. I will trudge on, my eyes fixed on my thoughts, Without seeing what is outside of myself, without hearing a single sound, Alone, unknown, back bent, hands crossed, Sad, and the day for me will be like the night. I will not look upon the golden sunset as night falls, Nor the sailboats from afar that descend on Harfleur, And when I arrive, I will place on your grave A bouquet of holly and heather in bloom.

At the crest of the hill outside Agor, Henry pulled the car to the side of the road and we got out to take in the view. In the falling shadows, the little Arab village at the foot of the Jewish settlement looked nothing like so grim and barren as it had a few minutes before when we’d driven down its deserted main street. A desert sunset lent a little picturesqueness even to that cluster of faceless hovels. As for the larger landscape, you could see, particularly in this light, how someone might get the impression that it had been created in only seven days, unlike England, say, whose countryside appeared to be the creation of a God who’d had four or five chances to come back to perfect it and smooth it out, to tame and retame it until it was utterly habitable by every last man and beast. Judea was something that had been left just as it had been made; this could have passed for a piece of the moon to which the Jews had been sadistically exiled by their worst enemies rather than the place they passionately maintained was theirs and no one else’s from time immemorial. What he finds in this landscape, I thought, is a correlative for the sense of himself he would now prefer to effect, the harsh and rugged pioneer with that pistol in his pocket.

Even if we don't have a special person in our lives we still all love a lot. We love feelings, tastes, sights and sounds. We love the villages, countryside, sprawling cities and towns, We love a sunrise and a sunset, a full moon, a starry night, a cloudy day, the wind on our face and through our hair, we love the rain. From the hot sun on our back on a mid summers day to the first crisp frost of winter. We love a book, or a movie, a song or symphony. Thoseuunafraid of love will be rewarded and see romance in all manner of places. Love is truly all around, not merely the exclusive feeling between lovers and families, or even between friends. We love a lot and we should always be able to love freely and without fear. To love with all our hearts ability.

When Sam and I were living in Australia, one winter weekend we rented a cottage in the countryside. We toured local wineries by day and at sunset we wrapped ourselves up in blankets on the porch overlooking the valley below, tucking into our bounty of wine and local cheese. I can’t remember who initiated it (OK, fine, probably me), but we decided that during this magic hour while day turned to night we could ask each other anything. This moment in our relationship changed everything. I got to ask all my questions and so did Sam. We also had to answer them. I think for both of us it’s the night we tipped over from infatuation to falling in love. Even now, the phrase ‘wine and cheese hour’ is shorthand for this safe space, when we need to sit down and reconnect. This is so bougie and painful to admit, especially because I don’t even like wine and this is now far more likely to be ‘coffee and Jaffa cake hour’. (Vodka and Pringles works, too.)

immersing people from the surrounding countryside in the River Glen every day from sunrise until sunset.

Hpa-An A small and fairly average town in Southeastern Myanmar but it is a base for exploring some of the fantastic surrounding areas. There are lots of curious caves to discover with the giant Saddar cave and its reclining Buddha and the Bat Cave the best ones. The Bat Cave is best visited at sunset when a ridiculous number of bats (hundreds of thousands) fly out of it only to return the following morning. You can also rent a bike or motorbike and explore the tranquil Burmese countryside. Another option is to climb to the top of Mount Zwegabin which is home to a monastery where the resident monks will let you sleep.

There was obviously something in the air as thirtysomething urbanite Jarvis Cocker of Pulp started writing songs about trees (albeit with a polluted humour) and even the 43-year-old guru of frozen electronica, Gary Numan expressed to Mojo magazine his appreciation of ‘amazing sunsets – they’re so beautiful. The whole sky goes purple and black. I never thought that happened in England until I lived in the countryside. In the winter you get that light, it’s as if you’ve turned the goodness up, it’s good light. People pay to go into galleries to look at bricks and cut-up sheep and say it’s art, but you can sit in your garden and see the most amazing things you’ll ever see and people take it for granted ... people amaze me. A lot of people seem to have lost sight of genuine beauty. Am I sounding really old?