The afternoon sun is setting, still high above the mountain peaks. But shadows are long, and it’s catching the edge of my window, passing the sill and throwing the dust floating through the air into a fine resolution, a gentle drifting haze, a clarity of that which wasn’t seen before. The dust in the air like the stars in the sky, the sun settles, falls deep, sinks into the ground, darkness embraces, the kind of invisible darkness that lets you look up, and there above, thrown away like studded gems in some black fabric like a ceiling extended too high, as far as you can think to reach, the stars that weren’t there when the sun was still live.