The closer we got, the more clearly we could see that they were shimmering. They looked like sequined gowns glistening and shining in the light. We walked closer and closer trying to figure out how the city pulled off making the huge and bright columns of light refract the light and display movement in that way.
We continued walking, trying to guess what it was that made it look that way. Was it some kind of confetti blown into the air? Was there some kind of hovercraft way up high that was dropping shreds of silver paper? Is it moving both up and down at the same time? Was it smoke blown into the shafts of light by huge fans and then stirred by the slight early autumn breeze?
Then, almost simultaneously, as we were about half a block away, we gasped. It wasn’t confetti or smoke. It was moths of all shapes and sizes. And bats. Hundreds of them. Maybe thousands. They were all drifting and floating around in the light. It was as if they were blissed out, getting their luminescence fix.
It was one hundred percent mesmerizing. And one thousand percent beautiful.