Stars have always been an escape for me. I never really spent much time dreaming on them, making wishes on them…at least not after thirty, but watching them. Magic. Pure magic.
Ducky is usually asleep pretty early, something about an eighty mile commute at 4 in the morning. What--ever. So I get the hot tub to myself late at night, in the dark of dark when the wind whispers in the top of the trees, it’s just me and the stars…and lots of hot water. Heaven.
It was a Wednesday night a few weeks ago, we’d had what seemed like weeks of 50 mph winds and finally came one night that was quiet and cool enough to enjoy a soak. Around eleven I climbed into the hot tub and let the dark envelop me. Over head Vega was glowing yellow, Mars hung red in the western sky with Mercury, and Jupiter; Venus had long gone to bed.
Leaning back I crooked my neck and stared up into the Milky Way. My eyes traced a north bound flight destined for Portland, Seattle, or Vancouver. Thousands of feet overhead that small, tiny light traversed the sky full of souls bound for another place. Where? Somewhere away, somewhere different, somewhere with other stories.
Moving in the southwestern sky, thousands of miles above, the International Space Station slowly arched to the east. A silent smooth light that flared suddenly before going dark on its orbit through the night.
I floated across the tub, kind of a glide because the breast-stroke was completely out of the question—no Ducky, and rested my head on the south rim. Eyes searching the stars to the north my head turned to the east just as a shooting star arched across the night sky to the west. A brilliant star flying light years away, brighter than it had ever shone, and then it was gone. I’d not wished for world peace lately so I closed my eyes.
I could hear the wind whisper in the trees, the ocean’s song calling from the sea, and some large animal crawling through the brush on the otherside of the cyclone fence. My eyes opened wide, my ears listened more intently-- lions? Tigers? Bears. Oh, mi! Hey it could be bears.
And then all was quiet again. And right in at least my little corner of the world.
Livin la vida loca
8 hours ago