Watching the signs slide by on the highway…unlike the ones normal people see…we sense shifting colors on vaporous canvas, subtle yet silent motion, amorphous, brilliant, ghostly…suddenly, as though bursting forth in a sudden surge of energy, our reflection appears, riding on the tip of our shadow as it pierces the clouds beneath us.

Following similar trajectories to those who have gone before us, our paths converge on a point beneath the aerial horizon…that nexus is captured in the expansive beams of light radiating from our reflection on the vaporous atmosphere…our Brocken Spectre tells us a story of our travels along this way, dwarfing our perception the shadowy image eluding our pursuit.