“If people sat outside and looked at the stars each night, I’ll bet they would live a lot differently.” –Bill Watterson
In Southern California you can’t really see a sky filled with stars. Especially when you’re in the city–it’s so disappointing. I remember when I was a child, every summer my family would go camping in the mountains. At night you could see thousands of stars burning brightly in place. Almost as if the sky was a blanket and light made its attempt to poke holes through it. Nowadays, whenever I look up at night it always takes me back to my summer camping trips and just how awestruck I felt.
I think because of those memories, no matter how faint they’ve become, I’ve grown fond of the night sky. Is it just me or do you guys also feel some sort of relational connection with it? I feel like the more time I spend outside when it’s dark, the more I feel it speak to me. Like there’s an unspoken language I can’t hear yet I understand. The only thing I can truly confirm is that its beauty is felt and each time I do, it shapes me. I don’t think I would be who I am–in the way that I am–if it weren’t for my appreciation for nature.