A Change in Perspective

March 2020

Right now, it is 01:08, I’m sat right next to my friend on a small island, looking out at the other islands sitting on the horizon line. Throughout the evening there have been bonfires in the distance.

Right now, there is a bonfire far on the horizon, and two fireworks just went off a long way across the Baltic sea in front of us. They are so far away that they did not make a sound.

There is a campfire nearer to us, and we can hear some laughter from over there.

A boat is silently floating across the water, and there is a single star in the sky. It is bright.

January 2021

Me and a friend were sitting, at around 2am, on a rock which overlooked the sea. We were sat on a small island just off the coast, which we could get to by walking across a rocky path half a metre below sea level.

It was the summer solstice, and despite it being dark, the air still had a little light in it. Another island sat on the horizon, and was just about visible, forming a slither of land separating the sea and the sky. It was strangely quiet, and the gaps in our conversation were filled with the gentle rustling of the trees behind us, and the whisper of the waves as they lapped against the mossy rocks a couple of metres beneath our feet. 

My hands had dried up a little from the cold air and felt pleasantly smooth and slightly calloused. There was a slow breeze in the air. 

We fell quiet and stayed that way for a while. Time slowed down, and a small light emerged over the precipice of the distant island. A firework quickly, but silently, blazed it’s way upwards and exploded, sending colourful sparks into the air to form a circle, before conceding to the dark sky.