Odyssey - Dublin

February 14th, 2008

We had a midnight picnic on the shore of the Irish Sea. A storm was on the way, and the sky filled to overflowing with heavy, silent, immobile clouds. Pervasive blackness erased the stars and moon, seeking out and filling up the cracks and corners that might have harbored reflected light. Even terrestrial illumination from the train station and seaside houses had been silently gobbled up by the night.

The sea was strangely silent; it rustled a bit from side to side, its movements irregular, muted and uncertain. There was no trace of wind.

We drank cava out of plastic cups and passed cheese around our circle, feeling for each other’s hands for secure placement, since we couldn’t see a thing. Our voices were loud and penetrating in the silence; we eventually started whispering, since anything more was in excess.

Midway through the picnic we noticed two brilliant points of light in the sky. They merged into one, then separated, then merged again, all while maintaining a graceful decent towards the earth. We finished the cava and leaned back on the rocky beach, waiting for the aliens to land.

Entry Filed under: Odyssey