The process was invariable. Overhead there was always a thick and
unbroken bank of vapor which seemed featureless until sunset. Then,
toward the west, the brightness overhead turned orange and then pink,
while to the east it simply faded to a deeper gray. As nightfall
progressed, the red colorings grew deeper, moving toward mid-sky.
Ultimately, scattered blotches of darkness began to spot that reddening
sky as it grew darker in tone, going down toward that impossible
redness which is indistinguishable from black. It was slowly achieving
that redness.
Today Burl watched as never before. On the oily surface of the river the
colors and shadings of dusk were reflected with incredible faithfulness.
The round tops of toadstools along the shore glowed pink. Dragonflies
glinted in swift and angular flight, the metallic sheen of their bodies
flashing in the redness. Great, yellow butterflies sailed lightly above
the stream. In every direction upon the water appeared the scrap-formed
boats of a thousand caddis-flies, floating at the surface while they
might. Burl could have thrust his hand down into their cavities to seize
the white worms nesting there.
The bulk of a tardy bee droned heavily overhead. He saw the long
proboscis and the hairy hind-legs with their scanty load of pollen. The
great, multi-faceted eyes held an expression of stupid preoccupation.
The crimson radiance grew dim and the color overhead faded toward black.
Now the stalks of ten thousand domed mushrooms lined the river-bank.
Beneath them spread fungi of all colors, from the rawest red to palest
blue, now all fading slowly to a monochromatic background as the
darkness deepened.
The buzzing and fluttering and flapping of the insects of the day died
down. From a million hiding places there crept out--into the night--the
soft and furry bodies of great moths who preened themselves and smoothed
their feathery antennae before taking to the air. The strong-limbed
crickets set up their thunderous noise, grown gravely bass with the
increasing size of the noise-making organs. Then there began to gather
on the water those slender spirals of deeper mist which would presently
blanket the stream in fog.
Night arrived. The clouds above grew wholly black. Gradually the languid
fall of large, warm raindrops--they would fall all through the
night--began. The edge of the stream became a place where disks of cold
blue flame appeared.
The mushrooms on the river bank were faintly phosphorescent, shedding a
ghostly light over the ground below them. Here and there, lambent chilly
flames appeared in mid-air, drifting idly above the festering earth. On
other planets men call them "Will-o'-the-wisps," but on this planet
mankind had no name for them at all.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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