It only took a moment, a look up toward the stars, and it halted me entirely on my path…just going out to feed the dogs, Ernie jumping high as he does, Bonnie moving to her matt and Bertie wagging his tail waiting politely for me to fill his bowl.
I did my routine, one, two, three, feeding the livestock while my eyes stared toward the nippy north sky, dark and bright, stars actually sparkling like little twinkle lights that I put on the fake ficus trees at Carl House. Everywhere…at every corner of the sky, (if there were corners), that I could see.
I walked down the few steps to my open porch, near the fireplace and turned around slowly like a ballerina in a jewelry box. It was as though I’d never seen these stars. Where had they been, or rather…. where had I been.
And suddenly flashing memories of a night in Wyoming under a similar sky in a sleeping bag, or as a kid in the back yard lying on my back in the summer, a season of stolen evenings with a boyfriend in the park near the picnic tables…I’d seen them before, indeed, but not in awhile.
Little wake up moments taking us out of our head and into the sky.
A little gift at evening time.