Stargazing

The tail end of last night’s lingering sunset- boots burrowed into the sand, eyes looking up, searching.

“What do you want to do today?”
“Well, it’s a new moon tonight, so I’d really love to get away from the city and see some stars!”

So we drove 21 miles north with the setting sun soon becoming the only light around us on a long darkening road that felt straight out of a horror movie, keeping our eyes peeled for errant deer. And we parked on the gravel along side the road, underneath the low hanging branches of a tree that grazed the top of my head as I stepped out. “Well, at least we’ll know where the car is.” (As if we weren’t the only car around for miles) Then we walked up the short stairway that led to the empty beach, the river waves quietly hitting the shore.

We looked up, eyes searching, and Shawn noticed the Big Dipper, and as the last remnants of sun faded away, other stars began to twinkle into view. We watched a barge float slowly by, and wondered if they could see us standing there. And as their light slowly faded out of sight, we stood there for a while, legs unstable with the vastness of what the sky held above us- eventually succumbing and laying back on the cold sand to get a more expansive view.

We watched planes and satellites float by, and mused at how close it all looked, as though a ceiling of glow in the dark stars had been erected above our world and the vast universe around us is all just one big illusion.

We lay there silently, for what felt like infinite time, until my stomach growled and I said “Let’s get back home, I’m hungry.”