Three silhouettes in a violet light. I view them from their side, they are all facing the same direction, as though they will walk to the left of me, passing in a uniform line.
Smoke wisps through the air, I watch it as it moves. Flames licking tinder as it flickers in the night. Coals hot, glowing … sparks fly as the wood settles.
Light comes from many sources, all with their own properties. Some are soft, easy, warm and comforting … others are glaring and harsh, seeming to zap my senses.
Feeling the warmth grow, I turn the harsh lights off, and relax into the moment.