The night walked

down the sky

with the moon

in her hand.

~Frederick L. Knowles

We sit out quietly floating on the boat. It feels good to float. If You're not used to it, floating can be a strange feeling. Once you learn to like it, it feels safe and sleepy and relaxing. M pours small glasses of wine and we watch and listen as the birds begin to roost and the sun goes down.

 

At first, it is yellow and white hot with the last blasts of the day. Some clouds get in the way and the sun pushes through them with powerful rays.

 

The clouds thicken as if to challenge and the sun just drops further and reddens and finds a spot to burst through.

A moment of magic begins as the white rays go sideways illuminating the sailboat masts and making a surreal vision out of ordinary things.

Then, the last glorious blaze descends as the treetops light up and the new night begins.

  As a last reminder of its power, the curving rays begin to paint pastels on the edges of the cloud. It's just a teasing way of saying that if you get up early enough, you might see the other half of the show.

Did I mention that M was pouring some wine?

I never met a color I didn't like.

~ Dale Chihuly