Star gazing ...

The other night I wandered out to the back yard for a quiet sit down. The yard was bathed in pale moonlight, a nearby streetlight added to the eerie effect, although it played only a bit part. It was cool outside with summer drifting into fall, but the patio stones were still warm from the day's sun. I sat down, lit up a smoke and stared into the night sky. I live close to a major metropolitan area so the light pollution significantly waters down the effect of starlight. Nevertheless as I sat there letting my head fall back I could see a hint of the majesty of the night, stars twinkled back at me as if trying to be seen through the city's glare. The effort didn't go unnoticed; I was at once transported back to a simple childhood memory.

I was probably around eight or nine years old at the time. I recall camping out in the backyard of friend's house which bordered on a large open grassy field. Lying on our backs, our heads poking out from a pup tent, we were engrossed in that 1960's something sky, a sky filled from horizon to horizon with brilliant stars of every size. We lived on a small Air Force Station nestled amid farm fields and woodlots halfway between two very small towns in Southwest Ontario. There was little man-made light back then the night sky commanded alone humbling me even at that tender age.

We lay there, we two buddies, pointing out shooting stars and curious lights, thrilled by their passing and convinced that some were likely spaceships poised to steal us away. I can still smell the grass and feel the dampness of the dew outside our tent. It’s a vivid memory, one that reminds me of how much joy can be felt by simple things, of the value of sharing such things with others, and how nature’s presence can bring out our innate curiosity and humility.

I've seen that sky a few times since, although seeing it now requires travelling miles from home to find a spot clear enough to enjoy the richness of it. Unfortunately over the years it seems I have had fewer and fewer opportunities to do so. Unfortunately it’s not just a case of glare or convenience that denies this treat, it seems my gaze is now, more often than not, fixed closer to the ground and on earthly pursuits; pursuits that seemed to have pushed aside my childhood wonders and delights.

But every now and then something inside me sends me out to the backyard or to some quiet place to stare into the sky again, to embrace the wonder, the majesty, the incredible beauty of our night sky; a sky that at once reminds me of how infinitesimally small and yet how incredibly precious we are.