sigur rós.
I was camping in Lake Powell with my family for the week of the fourth of July. We were camped out inside of a giant natural amphitheater, formed when the outermost wall of a bend in the snaking canyon collapsed. The rubble formed the beach we slept on. The water was a bold jade green that complimented the orange and reds of the rocks that towered over our heads.
One of the nights, as we sat beneath the crescent of visible sky-- the full moon fit perfectly between each of the massive sandstone walls that limited our view of the heavens-- two people from a similar camp across the way passed in front of our camp on their way to another beach down the canyon. They were a young couple, maybe in their early twenties. The little metal fishing boat hummed along the water while their border collie surveyed us in a friendly way, sitting in our camping chairs.
Their flashlight shined deep into the water directly ahead of them; the green shone brightly, disturbed only by shadows of harmless fish that darted away from the hum of the engine. The light that didn't make it into the water bounced off the the surface, lighting up the amphitheater's ceiling with the familiar ripples of water-light, much like the bottom of a swimming pool.
In the boat, somewhere, was a speaker. And it played this song. The music echoed around every inch of that cavern, vibrating the shadows into harmless creatures of nature that moved to the beautiful sounds in the warm summer night. A cool breeze kept the heat in check, and for a few minutes, I experienced something fantastically beautiful.
Storytime over x3 Here's the song: