The quieter you become, the more you can hear. --Ram Dass
My husband, dog and I live toward the northwest corner of Wichita. Getting slightly (or extremely) stir-crazy these pandemic days, we decided to adventure out last night to see the Perseid meteor shower. We drove west to Cheney Lake to get away from city lights and into glorious darkness. There were very few clouds. We set up our chairs and settled in to observe the sky. We talked a bit, but I think we both realized that it was a much cooler experience in silence. Just the sounds of nature and occasional vehicles surrounded us. Looking at the sky, we were in awe at the immensity, knowing that some of the star light we saw was coming from stars that no longer exist, that some of those things that appear to be stars are actually whole galaxies. It's mind boggling. We did see a few shooting stars. The peace and quiet of nature and the vastness of the sky made both of us sleepy, and made for a good night's sleep.
It is an odd paradox that looking at the sky is such a grounding experience. I come away from sky-gazing experiences with a sense of divine order. If the One Life can handle the universe, it can certainly take care of me and everyone and everything else on our tiny/huge planet. We can rest easy.
Looking up, at peace,