When I was a child, living on a hillside in the hollow...when I had one leg longer than the other so I could stand straight... Oh! I can't go on with that part; it was a lie. My legs are pretty much the same length. Always have been. But...I DO write fiction ;-)
Let me start again...with just the non-fiction this time :-) When I was a small child, living in the hollow (valley) I never got to see sunsets. The hill rising sharply to the west hid all but the most extraordinary--high reaching, flame-red sunsets. We saw a sort of glow and oft I wondered how the setting sun must look to have turned the world pink like it had. But, that was beyond the known universe of the hollow in which I lived.
And up above us, on black-dark summer nights, the stars shone--far away, cold and mysterious. We learned where the "big Dipper" was. But much of the year, even it was obscured by the tall hilltops surrounding our universe.
So, we turned our eyes toward the earth and chased fireflies, filling mason jars with their flashing wonder. Back in the 1960s, we really didn't know how that worked. We didn't have encyclopedias (or Google search) at our house ;-)
Now, looking back, it was a prime example of Clarke's third law. "Any significantly advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic." There you have it, by geez. To us--a pack of country bumpkin farm kids running barefoot, chasing magic...there was no explanation needed. Magic was explanation enough.
When I got to be a grown up and rented my first little home, it was on "high ground". But, there was a woods full of tall trees between me and the view of the sunset.
Still, I knew when what preceded the speckles of light in the black velvet sky must have been astounding. But, nothing compares to finding a place where you can watch the setting sun on a regular basis.
So, tonight-- like most nights, we walked up the lane to a place where the hedgerow breaks open and exposes this vista. Then we sat and relaxed, talked about the day, and...yes...talked about the sunset. We rated it, dissecting it--colors, clouds, rays above and below, contrails, and how long the color lasted. And we included things like how far around the horizon the setting sun affected the colors in the clouds.
We lost ourselves in the sunset.
Here is the sunset from this evening:
And then we watched the stars come out. Have you done that lately? It is fascinating and humbling at once.
I took this photo one evening at our "sunset spot" and then added the stars later using "Paint".
In my "S" universe... I am humbled on a regular basis. The setting sun reminds me that all things have an end. The day, the season, and me. And then, when that first star arrives, as I make my wish, I wonder how many other people are wishing on it. And...I can't help but wonder if any of their wishes are the same as mine. (Shhh...don't tell. Or it won't come true.)
The Ss keep me deeply human and connected with other humans. Even in those solitary moments when I gaze at the heavens, and just listen...I hear the song of humanity...maybe I feel it more than hear it. But, it is a complex piece of music. We are more than this moment. In some way, we are all of yesterday and part of tomorrow, and bound together by tenuous strings in this very moment. Our voices fade...our passions crumble...and the universe continues to spin its slow swirl...
All the rat-race, competition, love, hate, violence, wars, goodness and kindness will be washed away by time...marked by a sun-rising...setting, the stars shining...the sun rising...setting...the stars...the sun...
The "S"s remind me of my place in the grand scheme... blessed for the moment at hand.
How about you? :-)
