Silver.

Photograph: Jason Hawkes/Barcroft Media

Walking along an empty beach, the sand almost white, the sea silver as the sun slowly sinks on the horizon.

A line of Pelicans gliding across the crimson orb and then a sail-boat far off crosses from the other side.

As the sun sinks lower a dolphin breaks from the surface and dives again. Then another.

A moment of stillness as the ripples on the ocean settle and then a whale leaps from the depths, a vast spray of spume and then a mighty splash, the drops of water sparkling in the light of the sleeping sun and drifting slowly down as the surface once more goes still.

The droplets turn to snow flakes, falling in the thousands/millions and from the snow that lays on the sand roses start to shoot up and open, dark red roses and then from their centre a mighty tree begins to grow, reaching upwards and opening branches and leaves, dominating everything.

Parrots fly from the tree, hundreds of parrots flying in every direction, the branches and leaves begin to fly away and then the trunk of the tree splits and opens flying away too.

And there is Krissie, dancing, spinning.

She is dressed in blue silk and dancing, spinning, rising into the air, still spinning she rises.

Swans, their wings beating gracefully fly to her and still spinning she descends and walks toward me, she is holding a crystal on the palm of her hand.

She throws it into the sky and it shatters into countless tiny sparks that slowly fall and cover the now empty beach.