observatory

the observatory is on the top of the hill just beyond the city. to reach it you must follow the northwest road into the plains, then turn from it and climb up through dense eucalyptus forest. the trees thin towards the top, to an open, grassy summit. the observatory is there.

a concrete structure like all the ancient things in this world, open to the northern sky. the observatory is a raised platform partly enclosed by two thick shells, which meet overhead, but which leave the northern and southern views open. carved within each shell is a small portal, and leading up to each portal are broad, broken stairways.

when you climb up into the observatory, you see first the open plains and hills rolling of in a northerly arc, or you see the city in its river valley between the two mountains, and nestling among its autumnal colours. but then, looking down to find your footing, you see the planets fixed in their orbit around the sun, each on a thin rail describing their motion. between the rails and discs are subtler arrangements of peaks and saddles, innumerable constellations.

you see all this submerged under a thick sheet of resin. the discs, the rails, the peaks and the saddles almost break its surface. between them, the empty sunken space disappears into black pits. but on this side, the surface is still smooth after all these centuries, albeit coated in layers of ash and dust and leaves and dirt, and it squeaks a little under your boots.

you peer into this solar system while it is still light. then you lie back with your legs hanging over the edge of the platform and look up. the sky is rich, late afternoon ultramarine with orange-white clouds leaving behind little grey wisps. the platform radiates out all the warmth of the day. you lie here and doze.

at sunset, the resin turns a deep orange. the last light illuminates within it, small suspended threads and bubbles, flaws, smaller planets and suns hoevering around the larger, all held in perfect suspension for who knows how long. night falls. the false solar system below you finally sinks into complete shadow, just as its counterpart begins to appear above.