Something warming in this, until you see the context. I recall ‘brick-coloured sunsets’ tinted by a haze of pollution in Shanghai. And note the additional surprising triologism: water-melon emptiness.
‘Nowhere, never, have I felt with such force Russia’s water-melon-emptiness; the brick-colored sunsets over the Moscow River, the color of the brick tea brought to mind the red dust of the Ararat blast furnace.’
Source: Osip Mandelstam, Journey to Armenia (London: Notting Hill Editions, 2011), p. 40