Sunrise on Cerro Paranal

Camila was supposed to close the dome at sunrise. She closed it. She wrote up the night's observation log. She put on a fleece for the cold morning. Then she climbed the stairs to the catwalk and walked out, with Polly on her shoulder, into the air.

The sun was not yet up. The Milky Way was fading behind a band of blue at the eastern horizon.

They did not speak for some minutes.

"This is the last good moment of the night shift," Camila said finally. "Right before sunrise. Everything is done. The data is on its way to Germany. The dome is closed."

A pale line on the eastern horizon behind the Andes sharpened. Then it became a glow. Then the first arc of the sun appeared.

The colour of the light was different from any Polly had seen. It was almost white, almost violet. It was sun-light without the editor.

The domes lit up first, then the catwalk, then Camila's hands on the railing.

Camila put one hand on Polly's back. "You will leave today," she said. "I always know when a visitor is going."

Polly tilted her red head.

"Thank you for being here this week," Camila said. "It is rare. The next visitor will be a graduate student doing a PhD. Then a journalist. Then another astronomer. None of them will be a parrot. I will remember the parrot."

Diego came out onto the catwalk in a green ESO polo. He carried two thermoses of coffee. He handed one to Camila. He nodded at Polly. He stood with them as the sun fully rose.

When it was up, Polly stretched her blue-teal wings. She lifted from Camila's shoulder. She circled the four domes once, very slowly. Then she banked east, toward the Andes.

The Atacama dropped below her. The domes became four small white spots. Then they were gone. The desert spread out and out.

She pointed her beak toward whatever was next.