I’m sadly coming to the end of my time in the “bachelor” hut (purposely misspelt), of living in an eerily quiet street and having a house with a pool and big backyard all to myself. When I first came, I would drag my feet along unenthusiastically to take out the rubbish on a dark night. Then, as I stepped out onto the gravel driveway, the clear night sky invariably caught me by surprise.
I would stop and stare for awhile, at the sky so close, the normally elusive milky way glowing softly and mysteriously, the stars bright and numerous against a dark canvas. Needless to say I didn’t mind taking out the rubbish after awhile. Sometimes too, driving along the dark highway I had to stop myself from tilting my head upwards to look at the stars instead of focusing on the road. I guess our fascination with little stars doesn’t end when we’ve grown out of nursery rhymes. I have also been watching the moon, cycling though it’s phases, from a curved slither, to a seemingly artificially cut semicircle, to my favourite bright round cheese (credits to my sister for the description) over the horizon. But when the moon is big and bright, the stars shy away and hide.
Seems like I’m recycling topics in my writing! From a post several years ago on stars: “I think it’s a natural response to praise the wonders so big, so grand, that we did not create and cannot create. Whether we praise God, or evolution, or mother nature…” As for me, I’m reminded of an amazing God.
The heavens declare the glory of God; the skies proclaim the work of his hands. Day after day they pour forth speech; night after night they reveal knowledge. They have no speech, they use no words; no sound is heard from them. Yet their voice goes out into all the earth, their words to the ends of the world… Psalms 19:1-4
For my time here, I guess the natural night lights are more than adequate substitutes for the amber city lights, the tall buildings, and their shimmering reflections across the waters. Both here and there, night lights are always beautiful but not without an air, a breeze, of pensive sadness.