There's a phenomenom that happens at the last second when the sun sets. It's called the "Green Flash". I'd never heard of it, until my brother told me about it during a discussion about the weather. He described how he had hoped to see it, but couldn't find the right location on land to view the phenomenom. Since I was working offshore at the time, I started looking for it, also, but the conditions never seemed to be right.
One late winter evening, the wind had laid down and the Gulf was almost calm. The water was only rippled by the light breeze. The atmosphere was as clear as it can ever be, so I waited at the rail on the west end of the platform.
As the sun set, I noticed the unusually clear atmosphere prevented the sun from turning the usual dull red. As it touched the horizon, it was still a bright yellowish orange. I kept turning my eyes away, since it was still so bright, but was quick to return my gaze for the right moment. It slowly disappeared until there wasn't much except a bright spot. Suddenly I saw it. For a second, the bright orange was gone and the sun turned a pale green. I felt a moment of strong triumph, but it was soon replaced by a loneliness and the wish my brother was there to share the experience.
I stored the memory, so I could remember it forever and told my brother about seeing the green flash. In the thirty years since that moment, we still haven't shared the experience together. I think I'll add it to my bucket list. Hopefully the shortness of life won't prevent it from happening.
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