Sunset on Nautilus

The skies were on fire. Clouds soared across the sky, oblivious to the light show, eager to get nowhere in particular. Meteorites streaked across the sky, visible through the vast breaks in the clouds, leaving yellow trails across the already violent oranges and reds. The ocean mirrored the painted skies in brilliance and endlessness; brothers, separated only by the gentle, rippling waves.

The island’s beaches met the waves in gentle embrace; beckoning them upon the shores for only a moment before they recede, once again, into the vastness. Overlooking the beach, with its fleeting visitors, stood the mountaintop; staring out across the ocean on one side and the rest of the island to the other. With a blue rounded dome, and Romanesque columns circling the walls, the observatory takes in the light show above; the unseen observer furiously scratching down meticulous notes on a well-used notepad, never removing eye from lens. The lawn around the observatory mounted a valiant effort to out shine the sky above, ocean below. Violent reds, vivid blues, and vibrant yellows amassed in uncountable masses around the mountaintop and down the slopes; each flowery mass connected to one another with the vibrant green of grass.

Permeated by the scent of grass, the wind flowed down the mountain to meet a tiny lake, surrounded by an equally small village. The lake mimicked the sky, similar to its far larger cousin, but it added flashes of bright, silver flashes as small fish darted to and fro beneath the colored surface of the water. The insects that hovered mere centimeters above the water’s surface caught only brief glimpses of the fish before being enveloped in the mouth of a jumping fish.

Ripples from the fish breaking the surface floated aimlessly towards the shore to meet the village, struck in awe by the extraordinary sight up above. Men, women, and children all standing out on their balconies, on the shore, and the bridges connecting the huts together; while a monthly occurrence, the meteor showers still managed to draw all faces skyward like the fireworks on a warm 4th of July holiday.

Oblivious to the wonders above, the forest of evergreens, steeped in the rich scent of pine and earth and flowers, stood ever vigilant on the island’s south end. The wind met the forest and found it brimming with activity: birds of blue, green, red, and grey flitting about, tracking down their respective nests; mice and squirrels went scurrying around the forest floor, jumping over and onto one another in a never ending game, diving into their underground burrows or leaping from branch to branch overhead, that brought the birds into fits of fury as one of them, inevitably, landed on their nest, disturbing the young ones just learning to fly. Watching all the activity was a snowy owl, letting his prey enjoy their antics before beginning the night’s hunt.

The wind finally departed the forest and curved eastward over the sea, saying “good-night” to the sun and “good evening” to the rising moons. The darkness rolled over the eastern horizon, revealing the twinkling stars, only faintly at first, but growing every second. Soon the skies would be filled with brightly shining stars and the shining double moons; for now, however, while the animals played, the villagers watched, the observer noted, and the sea rippled into eternity, the sun’s dying performance would dominate center stage.