We're in Utah right now, so big sky country. About midnight, we remembered the Perseid meteor shower was in its waning nights. When we stepped out, all I could do was gasp. Have I really never seen a sky like that? I don't remember.
On the one hand, I'm a city person. And even in my youth, when I was only a city child in my heart, we lived in the suburbs in Virginia. Plenty of ambient light and nothing big sky about it. On the other hand, I've been at the ocean at night - but only at ambiently lighted (is that the phrase I want? is it even a real phrase? who cares, it's the phrase I'm using) areas, never in open water. I've been in the mountains of Colorado - but again, only in cities and towns. Even in Alaska, when we were out in the bush, it was summer. There was no night sky. In winter, I was in Anchorage, with its lights, or Prudhoe Bay, with its clouds.
So, I gasped. And Lithus and I snuggled. And watched the Milky Way and the stars. We each saw meteors. His even left a green trail and exploded orange. I am happy to let him have seen that one.
We are both overwhelmed with optimism and possibility and potential right now, and have been for a few weeks. It manages to be peaceful and exhilarating, both, at the same time. For now, I am even managing not to look over my shoulder for the piano about to drop on my head, but just float and enjoy it.
It's good to look at the stars.
Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.