Owl frequently imagined where the Sun goes after it sets.

During a summer long after her chicks had grown, she decided to leave the safety of the meadow to try to follow it.

She nestled onto an oak branch and waited for the sun’s crimson descent.

She flew.

She flew farther than she had ever before.

She flew through stretches of forest blanketed in silence; no deer or fox could be found.

She flew over forgotten meadows of wild flowers, never to be seen, beautiful for no one but themselves.

It became a number of evenings where she would fly deeper into the forest, pursuing the iridescent colours of the setting Sun.

Each dusk she was closer to the place the Sun goes to set.

On the final evening of her pursuit she found herself in the place the cosmos goes to rest;

A peacefully energetic place where she could feel the gentle exhalations of the universe.

Where nothing is under control, but everything is as it should be.