Twilight silhouettes

A light rain is falling; there is not even the lightest of breezes to stir the air as we leave the pub, having treated a friend to a birthday dinner. Street lights reflect brightly on wet pavement. While on my way home, I see a tanker lit up like a floating city, a wall of tiny white lights past the end of a city street. From the house, I watch the evening light through the lacy network of tree branches, bare against the sky. Indigo fades to black, but the lights are still there, shining across the valley, across the harbour, across the world.