The strings of light intertwine in the dark space and disperse into the mist of iridescence. It's faint and translucent, a dazzling radiance of the giant star. Floating dust from myriads of small asteroids, chips of planets and comets.
A ceaseless and monotonous flow of objects subjected to the first law of physics. The law is saying that they will continue to move in a straight line for a long time until something changes. Newborn planets, condensed clouds of hydrogen, cosmic vapor. A burst of volcanic activity, streams of red lava spill on the plains and in the oceans, causing explosions. In this bustling and gurgling mass of chemicals and fire, the molecules stick together in the consistently evolving chains. The chains become more complex, diligently forming the fundamentals of the primitive life.
The cells frolick in the ocean, among the storms and the flurry of blinding lightning bolts, painting everything white and blue. The forms and outlines are getting imperceptible, unnecessary, ghostly, unreal.
Light, passing through the air prism, becomes soft and dissolved, painting the sky azure and producing rainbows. Whirlpools in the oceans, whirlwinds in the air mix everything in an unceasing energetic motion, accompanied by the music of hurricanes.
The flight of golden and red maple leaves in the autumn; the sign of shortening days and approaching cold. An exquisite lace, comprising the structure of the leaf. The leaf is floating and spinning in the air serenely like a sail of a boat caught in an invisible and inaudible storm.
Tiny pieces of amber are hiding in the sand brought here by an endless sequence of waves. The waves, washing over this sand for millions of years, starting back at the time when the sand was the rocks, and the amber was the thick, golden drops of resin, oozing from the trunks of prehistorical trees. Those drops that sparkled in the sun when it cast its benevolent golden rays at the bustling jungle paradise. A paradise, filled with noise, chittering, and squeals.
The gossamer of metal strings comprise the magnificent contours of a bridge; steel, alloys, and concrete; calculations and dreams united in its strange and enchanting form. This form coalesces organically with the dark ripples of the ocean, white splashes of foam, and the cobalt blue sky strewn with streaks of white. The hills in the distance are covered by prickly coverlet of spruces. At some point, the coverlet ends abruptly, and the slopes of the hills turn into the sharp edge of jagged rocks.
Dark, cold waves of the ocean wash over the rocks, leaving the traces of foam on the wet slippery surface of stones; smooth, polished by millions of years of water and foam. Flow of invisible light in the optical cables, sparkles, shadows and lights, quiet, serenity and flames