An ocean of light, shimmering, dancing. A woman, her face turned upwards, mesmerized by the ocean of light. She stands on the earthen beach below, her hair blowing gently in the midnight breeze. The ocean is in the sky, the light shimmers and shifts, and the woman stares up at it, her eyes shimmering and shifting along with the aurora borealis. She is in a field, a wide and wild field. There is tall green grass all around her, and distant mountains cupping her peripherals. She feels a million things, but is lonely. And that’s okay, the world will keep her company. She feels very small in that moment, very insignificant within the vastness of the breathing world around her. It’s moments like this she realizes the world really does acknowledge her existence on it’s surface, however. The shimmering ocean of dazzling colour above her is proof of that. Something so beautiful could only exist to be deeply appreciated by a perspective that can fathom the concept of it’s existence. And so she stands, the grass gently grazing the tips of her fingers, the chill night air kissing the skin on her face, the hem of her skirt billowing with life, her boots wet with condensation collected from the grass. She stands, head tipped up towards the endless sky and she watches the ocean of light dance.