The one moment that will never happen again.

I think I went out of my mind today.

It was an absolutely gorgeous day for a Cleveland day in March. The temperatures reached the 60s and the skies remained clear the entire day. I was stretching in a small park next to my apartment.

It was evening. The sun was beginning to set and colored the skies purple and pink. I was sitting on a bench, listening to my MP3 player, taking long and deep breaths, and just enjoying the evening weather.

I looked at the trees in front of me. The scene absolutely stunned me. The sky was a gradient of blues, purples, reds, pinks, and yellows. The trees appeared black against the background of the sky, and their branches just multiplied endlessly, like capillaries. The scene was breathtaking. I stared in awe.

A song came on my MP3 player. As Vertical Horizon sang to my ear, I stared at the trees. I deeply wished I had my camera to capture this moment. The beauty of it almost brought tears to my eyes. I knew that in ten minutes, the sun will set and this surreal moment will vanish forever.

Vertical Horizon was telling me something. Although I knew that it was my imagination, Vertical Horizon was sending me a message that went through my ears and down to my heart. All of a sudden, like a scene from a movie drama, I took off. With adrenaline rushing and my heart madly pumping, I sprinted as fast as I could to my apartment, grabbed my camera, and dashed back to the bench. Couples strolling down the sidewalks gave me funny glances. There was no way I could let this moment get away. I've had too many lost moments.

Breathless and sweaty, I got back to the same bench I was before. The scene was the same, perhaps slightly darker. Taking a deep breath, I snapped a picture. I took one more picture before the camera batteries died. It's funny how that happened.

At least I captured the moment. I didn't let it get away.