The lighthouse stood at the end of a long green headland, where the grass grew short and soft from the salt wind. It had been lit every night for a very long time. Tonight was the first night it would rest.
Its keeper was an old woman named Maren, and she had known for a whole season that this evening would come. A newer light had been built farther along the coast, small and bright and able to look after itself. The ships no longer needed the old lamp. So Maren had decided that she would put it to bed properly, the way you would settle anyone who had worked hard for a long time.