But it was only for a moment. The synapse between my eyes and my imagination thrilled briefly as it made the connection between the colors in the sky and waters that had somehow traveled upward.
I saw a pool of light collecting between clouds that had solidified into shorelines and beaches, before drifting away into a foggy landscape. A depth of mercury, glistening with sunlight, floated above me like a baroque painting: mad with radiance, sceneries and impossible worlds.
It was a smooth ellipse, lustrous and liquid. The tired day had found the strength to cast a final glowing ember across it, which sank beneath its cold surface. Far above me the waters lapped against the misty, cloudy sands. Breezes signed across the ethereal waters – their sources hidden and distant: the patient stars perhaps, or the moon, waiting for her time to appear; waiting to shame the sun with her stark, frosty light.
I saw a lake in the sky. It flowed through the air, found its place in the depthless atmosphere and settled inside the geography of the parted clouds. But the vision was only a brief one and all too quickly it melted away, like a silver coin tossed into a furnace.