Two shooting stars and a sky full of quiet darkness

I realized Saturday night that I haven’t stargazed since I was twelve or thirteen and lived out in rural Texas.

I found a spot on campus during my fretful wanderings that is absolutely perfect–no one on campus can see you, the sounds of campus (endless refridgerated air units, party sounds, just people sounds in general) drop away almost completely.

You can also see the stars, because the lighting all over campus is largely blocked.

I don’t know what the odds are of seeing two shooting stars in very rapid succession, but I managed to do so that night.

I dislike city-living more than ever right now. It’s the little things I didn’t even know I missed.

Like cattle stampeding through one’s front yard…

Or, more relevantly, stargazing. Completely un-scientific, uncomplicated, silent stargazing.

  • Jenny

    ooh let’s run away to the country!

  • I’m still a fan of this idea…

    Gimme twenty acres, a custom-built house (because I *must* have my library), and sufficient distance from a city (call it 20 to 30 miles), and I’ll be set like a jet.

    Now I just need to get a job that pays well enough for me to save while paying off the loans and living…

  • Saturday was a great night to go stargazing….I went on the hayride a couple of times at Pike, and just laying back and looking up at the sky as we drove on the back roads in the middle of nowhere was awesome. I don’t think the moon was very bright that night, so there were a lot more stars than normal.

  • Hannah

    Boston has a major disadvantage if I ever want to see stars. I kind of like the way that the city lights twinkle though. It’s comforting to live here, as if I’m among the stars. There’s something sort of nice and poetic in the way that the city grows organically, despite the fact that it is in actuality extremely man-made. When I finally figured that out, I quit hating the city.