they headed down the slope between streams of yellow crime scene tape , and sean watched the sun begin its descent through the trees , turning the pen a rusty gold , adding a red glow to the treetops , sean thinking if he were dead that 's one of the things he 'd probably miss most , the colors , the way they could come out of nowhere and surprise you , even though they could make you feel slightly sad , too , small , like you did n't belong here .