Roy G. Biv. That middle initial looks so alone in the prism's moniker. The citrus colors and the twilight shades have their own little cliques to either side. But poor G is all by its lonesome. I notice you G. I see you there, stalwart, on your own. But I will probably never see you in the sunset - even though I know you exist.

Light, passing through the prism, breaks into all the colors - Crayola shavings falling all around. But when it breaks through the atmosphere? Where does G go? I never see her. The Biv trio get scattered about in the evening, creating lavender layers and creamy cyans. And Roy - good ol' Roy - those fellows are bright and abundant every morning. But G? The elusive G? Always left behind. Hiding in the crowd. She never gets her moment to shine.

Unless...

Unless, by chance, you're in the right place at the right moment. Just here. Just so. Where the horizon is so defined that you can almost see the edges of the world tapering off. Where the air is so clear that surely you must be in the stratosphere or lilting on the ocean breeze. When all is still - suddenly, she'll appear. G. Brief, momentary, nothing but a flash of emerald. But she dances away again, melting into the crowd. Fading into the horizon. Back into the prism.

I know she's there but I've never seen her. I know she's there but I'll probably never see her. I know she's there - The Green Flash.

Wikipedia: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Green_flash