We watch the rays disappear behind mountains. Mountains rise and fall in creases like the back of an ancient sleeping dinosaur. This dinosaur plays against the light, like waves, and the mirage creates an illusion. The illusion, a soft light, the mountains turning from brown to pink and purple. Purple, the colour of birds retiring into the dusk. Dusk consumed by the city smog. Smog that hides, envelopes, protects, till daylight comes.