By Ian Coates

Last updated 10:06, Wednesday, 23 April 2008

I love sunset. On a clear day, with the sun setting on the bosom of the Lake District fells, the last few minutes of daylight comforts me no end.

In Cumbria we learn never to take it for granted because we know it is shy and doesn’t appear too often for us.

My father calls it Feebie. I have no idea why and when I asked, I was told, ‘It just is.’

She sets on our worries, fears and bad moments of the day and leaves us with a glimpse of how wonderful life can be. A promise for the future.

It’s like a favourite landscape artist producing a masterpiece especially for my ride home. It’s the instant reward for another days work under my belt.

Travelling home, saying goodnight to Feebie is very special to me. I know she’ll be back again tomorrow.

Whether or not the next day will be in all her golden glory or just enough for daylight is up to her.

The weathermen have little to do with it, whatever they tell us. I don’t think Feebie listens to them at all. Just when we think they have it sorted, she will throw a shy spell and disappear behind the clouds. Like women do when they don’t look their best.

She’s certainly a lady, she provides us with warmth, comfort and something pleasing to see but only if she wants to.

She has her flaws. Too much of her does you no good at all.

So I guess her being female is pretty spot on. Maybe its not Feebie, but Phoebe? Who knows? Certainly not my father but then maybe I’m beginning to get too deep with this.

Perhaps I need to stop trying to understand her and just enjoy her. Yes, exactly like a lady.

And when Feebie disappears from our view so beautifully, somewhere, someone witnesses the warmth, not only of her rays lighting up their world, but reflections of our love and best wishes carried from our hearts to our friends and family overseas.

Goodnight Feebie. Haste ye back.