THE DANCE OF THE NIGHT

I stood there, 500 feet up high on a pyramid of rocks that overlooked the vast ocean. The night was dark despite the illumination from a crescent moon that had just surfaced. But even in the darkness, the silhouette of the hilly, snow-capped mountains could be seen from afar. And up above were shimmering glitters that were generously sprinkled to fill the night sky. Everything was so still. The only sounds that could be heard were the crashing waves of the ocean, the whooshing of the cold winds, and the rustling leaves in the distance. I gathered the wood I had brought with me on my way up and ignited them. And soon, they were ablaze. The fire grew stronger by the second and danced ferociously as it drove out the cold. I lay by the blazing wood, all alone in the middle of nowhere. The solitude, however, was oddly soothing. I locked eyes on a constellation. It looked like a pigeon. Or maybe a sparrow. Then I saw another that resembled a hat. They felt so close, the stars. Maybe they descend from their galaxies every night to entertain and bemuse us.

I saw a bright light out of the corner of my eye. I turned around to see thin, luminous streaks of bright green emerging from behind the mountains. The streaks thickened as they slowly spread and swayed elegantly in the dark sky. I was dumbfounded for what I was seeing was a visual representation of an orchestral piece, symphonized in heavens unknown to the human realm, formed after the graceful waves of a conductor’s baton. Words could not ever do justice to this magnificence. Then a dash of yellow poured in, followed by a faint shade of red. It looked as though a child had dabbed paintbrushes in watercolor and run them across a dark blue canvas. The resplendence was breathtaking. It was a spectacle like no other; one that was put up by Mother Nature herself. She had painted the night for all to see. She had brought the night to life.

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