Page 165 of Sunset Beach

“You know? I think we might see the green flash tonight,” Drue said. The sun had dipped so low on the horizon the only thing still visible was a faint orange streak.

“Hey, look.” Jonah turned and pointed. He handed the phone to her. The blue-gray bird approached, neck outstretched, eyes trained down on the water, balancing delicately on stick-like legs.

Drue held her breath, waiting, as the heron finally stood poised in front of her. The bird lifted its head, turned and seemed to be staring directly into her camera. She clicked the shutter only once, and put the phone down.

A brilliant phosphorescent burst of green slashed across the horizon and was gone. “There it is,” Jonah said. “A perfect sunset.”

“The first of thousands. Tens of thousands of sunsets,” Drue murmured. The heron startled, unfolded its wings and flew off.

“They’ll all be perfect to me,” Jonah said.

Drue swung around and faced Coquina Cottage, lit up against the night sky. “Let’s go home,” she said.