Earth's Eye

Disoriented I opened my eyes, straightened out my neck and looked out the window. I could feel the coolness of the air outside even through the fuselage. I thought about how few millimeters lay truly between me and that icy cold air...

An immense peacock plumed rainbow had attached itself to the horizon like a lens to the eye of the earth still deeply inky with the sleep of night while behind us the stars still twinkled. The smoothness of the eye interrupted only by dark pilings of clouds masquerading as mountains and waiting broodily on the horizon. As the rainbow grew broader and brighter I could see the lights of Dover twinkling, outlining myriad roadways and defining the coast as they faintly faded.

Over the Channel the air was clear, the sea not even glinting but only dully reflecting the coolness of the night in the growing light. The northern coast of France slowly revealed itself as the rainbow faded and the sun, distorted by the great aperture of the atmosphere, rose bright orange and still flat into the turquoise, becoming the broad cornea that had been missing.

A very slight fog lay over the land in crested waves, lapping villages and gently nudging bell towers and town halls. It then increased to a proper winter blanket obscuring all but the tallest details which poked inquisitively through to the air above, then cleared to reveal proper green hedgerows, lakes and lanes.

The dawn of a new day.