I suppose it’s pretty. The sky gradates from a pale orange to rose pink to blue, and the sun hangs low in the horizon, shining a deep yellow. But there is also beauty in the balmy blue sky of a breezy summer afternoon, as if there is nothing weighing on your shoulders. Or the star-littered night sky, when you feel the immensity of space.
Maybe because they only last for a couple of minutes, then they are gone. The beauty is in what we can’t have.