Finally. As I stepped away from our late night mallow-roasting ritual, my eyes left the fire glow and invited the clear dark sky to open. It's entire soul was swallowed by tiny pricks of fabulous light. Covered. Like a blanket of diamonds. It took my breath away.
As my eyes adjusted more to the black brightness, I could see sand, stretching from one horizon to the other, just behind Piney Ridge. It was the Milky Way. I stood in a planetarium of real life. Trying to stretch my sight to see it all at once. Impossible. So I picked a spot, and watched eternity stare at me.
For a tiny moment, I felt myself up there. On one of those diamonds. Looking down, or up, on our little fire pit. An intimidating reminder of how small I am. An overwhelming permanent photograph of infinity. Incomprehensible.
Gagillions of stars to stand on. Which one do you choose.
I can't sleep. I want to go lay on the wet ground and watch again.
But the cold intimidation is yelling at me to get in my covers. So I'm just writing about it instead.
Mmm. And I want another mallow. I reached roasted marshmallow perfection tonight. Perfectly tanned all the way around; a gooey marvel with a crisp crust. It's an art. Someday I'll share.