The cool breeze of night gently taps me on the shoulder, ushering me to the window, her show is about to begin. I can tell by the exquisite brightness escaping the edges of the curtains, we are in for a good one tonight. Slowly pushing the light tan fabric to one side, my eyes stay fixed to the floor as I slide the creaky door along it’s bumpy tracks. Gently stepping out onto the old, tired wooden balcony weathered by many shows of such beauty. I follow the line of hammered nails that take me to the edge. One hand wraps safely around the warm blistered brown rail only as high as my thighs. The other hand shades my eyes as they trace the green bushy shrubs housing evening chatter of birds telling stories of their day. My gaze is now drawn over the tree tops as her burst of golden volcanic brightness radiates every inch of day, spilling onto the scattered clouds, glistening between the swaying leaves. Her beauty makes my eyes squint, leaving black spots in my view. Each moment she slides down behind the landscape she leaves a trail of mesmorising iridescent lava staining the sky. She takes the warmth and my worries with her. She slips behind the horizon while my eyes linger on the spot she last danced. This stretch of time of waiting is softened by her presence morning to night. While the musty aroma of night creeps over me so does the only certainty we have in our lives, she will be back tomorrow.