It’s even longer than he’d expected. Up and up and up and up. He’s been half-prepared for this to be a disappointing illusion, some trick of refraction that appears farther away the harder he tries to approach it. To his surprise, the lights do seem to get closer, but the process is achingly slow. After a while the air grows thinner, and once he reaches a point where beating his wings against it hardly keeps him aloft, he gives another wink to logic and gravity so that he can continue.
There’s no boundary that he crosses, per se, but at some point he slows from the breakneck (and unlikely, if he’d been bound by physics) pace he’s set thus far. There are colours standing out strongly to the east and west, and above him he can see black sky through the glowing mist. The ribbon’s edge that appeared so sharp-edged from below is here much less solid, like a cloud that seems so much more than a collection of water droplets until one is inside.
The perspective doesn’t make it any less impressive, however. With some relief, he follows the course of the aurora now, moving slowly and gaping into a glowing fog. His eyes can’t seem to take in enough of it, and he keeps pausing to turn in different directions. He’s used to seeing incredible things in the natural world, in human nature, even in things created by human hands. But being in the centre of a physical manifestation of raw Creation, stunning and so much larger than himself, and simply a part of Earth’s natural spectacle... well, miraculous is the best word he has for it. The little tweaks that got him here barely even register. It’s a pulse of life, the lights shifting around him. He feels a part of a celestial dance usually reserved for the stars.
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timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2008-12-07 07:37 am (UTC)There’s no boundary that he crosses, per se, but at some point he slows from the breakneck (and unlikely, if he’d been bound by physics) pace he’s set thus far. There are colours standing out strongly to the east and west, and above him he can see black sky through the glowing mist. The ribbon’s edge that appeared so sharp-edged from below is here much less solid, like a cloud that seems so much more than a collection of water droplets until one is inside.
The perspective doesn’t make it any less impressive, however. With some relief, he follows the course of the aurora now, moving slowly and gaping into a glowing fog. His eyes can’t seem to take in enough of it, and he keeps pausing to turn in different directions. He’s used to seeing incredible things in the natural world, in human nature, even in things created by human hands. But being in the centre of a physical manifestation of raw Creation, stunning and so much larger than himself, and simply a part of Earth’s natural spectacle... well, miraculous is the best word he has for it. The little tweaks that got him here barely even register. It’s a pulse of life, the lights shifting around him. He feels a part of a celestial dance usually reserved for the stars.
It’s glorious. Ineffable.