It was a strangely hazy late after­noon. The sky had become a misty yel­low like a faded post-it note. I went out, took the lift to the ground floor and walked past famil­iar parts of my block to an unfa­mil­iarly open area where I can see the sky in its entirety. In a few moments it was evening. Sud­denly some­one ges­tured to my right and when I turned I saw rings of rain­bow light scat­tered hor­i­zon­tally in mid sky. The rings appeared like blurred search lights behind the thick misty yel­low fog as the sky began to darken. They pul­sated with the pace rem­i­nis­cent of a Chopin noc­turne. The approach of evening seemed to have accel­er­ated and the mist faded in a flash as if it was made of a bil­lion explod­ing stars. Though it was all peace­fully silent. The rings are still there, danc­ing like bokeh but are now clear and shim­mer­ing. It had all the hues of the uni­verse and was danc­ing beau­ti­fully like a star belt amidst the glow­ing blue tinted night sky. The belt of light stretched end­lessly to both ends of my vision. On the far left hori­zon I could see the sil­hou­ette of the Golden Gate Bridge. I stood there dumb­founded by this roman­tic dis­play. Then the lights faded away as fleet­ing as it came.