Awakening of the Twilight

As the sun slowly sank at the commencement of the evening, streaks of rich orange, red and dandelion burst in the heavens, substituting its former blue aura, tinging the vast feathery clouds with such warm colors—but, nevertheless, contained traces of tenebrous shadows—for the winds swept them away to distant regions. Numerous avians were prevalent and, like majestic, winged messengers of Providence, glided harmoniously near the surface of the sea, descended, and brought with them food, which, perhaps, resembled mackerel or herring. They delivered it to their nests, dangling precariously near the waters, situated above a precipice, for their offspring had been waiting irascibly for a tedious amount of time. I also perceived many cetaceans foraging in the pelagic; some performed somersaults and stunts, which astonished me, while some maintained their timidness by remaining concealed in the depths. So lovely, so satisfying, was the scene that my eyes began to sore from not blinking too often, for I wished to immerse myself in the view; it offered absolute serenity, an elusive disposition. But after the radiant explosion of luminosity came darkness, an inexorable apparition that asserted its arrival by evoking waves of black and indigo into the sky, wakening the moon and the stars from their transient slumber, for it was time for the diurnal entities to plunge into their relentless dreams and for the nocturnal to rise and vanquish the elements. Night had finally appeared to assume its throne in the sky: evidently as cold and merciless as the freezing permafrost of the Earth.

-Joel Econas