The Sun withered, leathery wrinkles of the old man’s face turn upward as he lets out a laugh. Slapping his knee, he points to the horizon.

“Ha, Did you see it? Did you see the flash? It only happens occasionally.” He grins, his face glowing in the sunset hues of twilight. “Very rare, the green flash.”

“I’ve only see it once.” I say.

“Well, good! That means you’ll never go wrong in matters of the heart again. That’s a good thing.” He settles back against the cockpit coaming, crossing his legs, his hands cradling the back of his head as he gazes out across the Pacific.

“Do you know how it’s created?” he asks.

“Something to do with the refraction of light through the Earth’s atmosphere, right?”

“What?! No!” He suddenly careens forward, bracing his hands against the cushion beneath him. “Well… Maybe. But no, no…” He shakes his head, fumbling for words. “That’s… No, no. That’s not what I mean. I mean, do you know why it only happens sometimes? Why, or how…how it gets refracted?”

“No?’ I shrug, unsure where he’s going with this.

“It only happens when a sailor, underway, catches the sun just perfectly positioned in their winch socket as its setting.” He pauses, making a ball shape with his worn, callused, sailor hands. “The sun has to compress and squeeze tightly down through the socket.” He clasps his hands together, squishing his imaginary sphere. “That refracts the light. That splits the green color right out of the sun’s light waves, and the green light wave shines separately onto the edge of the horizon. That’s what creates the green flash for everyone within five thousand miles to see.”

“Oh, yeah?’ I question, cocking my right eyebrow in his direction.

“Yeah.” He looks me dead in the eye, then smiles and leans back again. He folds his hands contentedly in his lap, as he watches the last of the sunset hues dance across the sky.

I laugh, shaking my head and furrowing my brow at him. Still unable to tell whether he actually believes what he just said. “Is that what you tell all the kids?”

“Only the smart ones.” He grins back at me. “Only the ones who’ll catch the sun just perfectly themselves one day, and create a green flash all around them.”

“Okay, I’ll take that. I like that plan.” I smile at the sun kissed man, worn out by a life well lived. A man who still loves nothing more than sitting on his boat whenever he gets the chance.

“Good. That’s why I told you the real secret. The secret only true sailors know. Because you’re going to become a true sailor.” he says with a twinkle in his eye.

My eyes drift back toward the horizon, wondering if somehow, he just might be right.

The question is: Does this look like a good representation of a compressed sun in a winch socket?

I don’t really think so.

But, maybe, if you happened to see a green flash on July 1, 2025, within five thousand miles of Southwest Harbor, Maine…

Then perhaps, it could have been. 😉

Of course, there’s the scientific version too:

The Earth’s atmosphere acts a little like a prism, bending the path of light rays as they pass through it. Different colors of light have different wavelengths, and they don’t all bend by the same amount. This process, called dispersion, separates the colors of light. As the sun rises or sets, its light travels through a greater depth of atmosphere along the horizon. This increases the amount of refraction and dispersion, occasionally causing the green portion of the spectrum to become briefly visible just as the sun disappears. And that, technically, is what causes the green flash.

But between you and I…

I think the Old Sailor’s version is much better.

Science often tells us how things happen, but listening to others is how we learn why it matters.

And I like to think that sometimes, listening to others is how we make the impossible possible.