The sun is gone, now just a faint yellow blemish in the horizon. The moon is left alone as stage manager.
Piercing eye through the curtain of green.
White moon sitting on top of a snow-capped mountain like some giant Host offering itself to the world.
Pink stage, yellow and orange wings, deep blue proscenium. Then the pink gives way to a darker shade. Orgasmic light over snow shielded peaks. Knights in full armor of beauty and nobility. Spotless sky, pristine evening.
Every night a different show. A miracle of life offered anew to the beholder. Au veilleur.