A white sun blazes through the roof of a greenhouse while stars remain visible in the black sky around it. Below, chrysanthemums bend over their pots and leaves hang limply from the staging. A woman stands in the aisle with a watering can lowered at her side, looking up at the impossible light. The ordinary task has stopped as the whole greenhouse seems to hold its breath.

Rows of pale metal roof ribs lead into the distance above brick walls and wooden benches. Apples rest in crates with softened wax dripping down the edges, while pumpkins carry beads of moisture on their rough skins. A narrow drainage grille runs along the brick floor beneath the woman’s feet. The harsh light catches misted glass, drooping petals and the weave of her linen dress. These familiar materials make the extraordinary sky feel close enough to affect every object below it. The tall composition joins the small signs of heat near the ground to the brilliant white disc high above the roof.