Black on Blue

The symphony of colour began to fade as the sunset succumbed to the inevitability of time. The reds, golds, oranges, and pinks that had cast a dappled reflection on the choppy waves all turned into muddied hues before being swallowed up by an expanse of deep blue. Even as the last tell-tale rays of light reached pitifully like a drowning victim against the horizon there was not a smidgen of mercy to be found in the vast expanse that made up one half of a marbled sphere. A lonely mammal breached the surface in a graceful arc - so large and yet so small. It too was yet another paradox of the seas, of the water yet a patron of the skies. Its baritone cry rippled beneath the surface of the water as it bid farewell to the last vestiges of daylight. 

As the sky was fast being washed of its colour, the waves that had simply rippled, ruffled, and danced across the surface seemed to pause in that unmistakable tension that preceded a crescendo. Then as if spurned by the four winds the rhythm changed. One would have assumed that the orchestra had switched out their sheets, beginning to beat ceaselessly, mockingly, and repeatedly against it instruments. Even as inky darkness crept in unnoticed; painting the sky in marbled hues of blue and grey, one half of the world appeared frozen in time while the other rebelled against its eerie stillness.

With the deepening darkness came the arrival of the lady of the night. Her watchful presence cast a luminescent glow against the darkening expanse; the richness of the nocturnal skies outlined her solitary curve as if to encourage her to shine brighter. It was an illusion but a consistent one. Her face danced across the rolling waves below as the seas swelled in her presence - rising to the occasion of her midnight gala. Waves edged with white like the trimming on a Victorian gown fanned across the uneven dance floor. But it was still early. The dancers had not all made an appearance. The lonely lady danced by herself as she awaited her suitors of the night. And yet the whale circled - a silent spectator, making her presence known as she breached the boundaries of both worlds dancing to its own tune - riding currents that spurned in the ever-blackened depths before cycling back to the surface for that lonely breath. 

One by one, the constellations emerged like the aristocrats of the night. Each entangled in their own parties. There was a restlessness that permeated the scene. The contrast of the stark stillness of the pristine canvas of the skies against the tumultuous waves created a breathtaking juxtaposition for the senses. Each of the glistening participants that made themselves known across the speckled night thrummed in a muted clamouring for attention. Yet as the night progressed there they remained; frozen in place among their thousand counterparts, unable to break away from the gravity of its entrapments. And so the lady danced alone. 

She danced boldly. She danced timidly. She danced with abandon. At times it appeared as if she could glow no brighter and at stolen moments it seemed as if her glow were damped by a passing grey mood. She had no equal; resigned to dancing alone in a crowded room as the hours of the night ticked by. Tonight was one of those nights her enthusiasm had not waned. She hid no facet of herself under the guise of darkness, edging even the darkest of obstacles with silver linings. Throughout the night the whale crooned its comfort - dulcet tones buffeting against the beating of the waves that that since calmed as the concert reached its climax. The whale slept then - logging close to the surface as it drifted vertically in the newly calm waters. 

Just as the night was at its darkest, just as the lady shined her brightest the horizon heralded the approach of a new contender. It began with a subtle softening of the navy tones of the night sky that succumbed to a golden warmth that seemed to stretch out from a line of fire that split the border between the blue and black. This glowing aspirant strode onto the dance floor with unabashed confidence. While the lady had danced among her suitors with bashful acceptance the new dancer shone with an arrogance that obscured the light of his feeble counterpart. Even as the sky bled from black to pale blue; chased by the unapologetic gold the specks of light that speckled the night surrendered in hasty retreat. 

And then she was alone, this lonely lady. She had been one dancing alone but she had still been one among many. Now even as those competing to match her shine faded away it seemed as if she had lost her glow. Exposed in the illuminated dance floor she paled beneath white veils edged with gold. It was her that was now insignificant. Barely noticeable unless one chose to seek her out. She shared the same dancefloor with her solitary glowing counterpart. Unlike him she had glowed with borrowed light and in the presence of one whose overwhelming glow dominated the skies she faded into the background. But she endured. She may no longer be the brightest dancer in the sky, but she was nothing if not persistent. She knew even as the hours of insignificance would once more wane into the darkening night in which she would once more shine brightly among her countless admirers. 

The whale, long since awakened at the breaking of dawn, once an attentive spectator of the sky now chases shoals of fish along the seabed in distraction, scarfing down its weight in krill. As the waters cooled once more, and the sky dims into a dull orange the whale emerges from its glut to watch once more as the sky bleeds orange before fading to black. As he does each night, he then resumes his unassuming role as sentinel of the night; watching the skies lend their beauty to his shared world.