The Wee Democracy

of bright moons, red suns, and falling stars

remember that entry i wrote awhile back, about going out at night and looking up at the sky? well, i've been thinking about it again recently, though not in the same semi-depressing way. i guess it started on...monday night. i was rolling the garbage out once again to the curb, and i noticed how bright it was outside. i mean, the moon was so bright it was casting these really awesome pale blue shadows across the lawn, and it just made me smile. it reminded me of when i first moved back to dallas, just over a year ago (god, that sounds like torture).

anyways, i just found it amazing. i flew to iowa last year, as the few and faithful know. it was cloudy in some areas of the country between here and there, and it was dark. i looked out the window, into the clouds just as we were clearing them and flying right above them. the moon lit up the top of them like a soft white blanket, and it remains the most beautiful sight i've ever seen.

back to monday night. it was around 2 or so in the morning, and i'd already been outside to bask in the moonlight for a few minutes at a time, so i wanted to look out and see the landscape (you know, as much landscape as there is in the 'hood) bathed in the light again, and about one and a half seconds after i looked out the window, i saw a little bright white streak going across the sky.

i've always been lucky like that, it seems. when there's a meteor shower (like the perseids a couple of weeks ago) i can go outside for a minute or two and manage to see myself a pretty good one.

then this morning, i walked outside and noticed that everything looked pink. i looked up at the sky and noticed the sun hitting the clouds just so and casting a soft pink hue over everything, making the whole place seem like a nice little womb, and soothing my frazzled nerves before work, the frazzling being a result of another chase dream wherein this time the chaser was a massive anaconda (man, i'm impressionable). at the end of the street, by the bus stop, i turned around and looked up and just enjoyed it. the pink only last for about five minutes, before giving way to orange, and then to boring ol' white. a man walked up to me while i was facing the sky. he kept his back to the sun. it seemed appropriate.

during all these times when i'm enjoying the grandiosity (is that even a word) of the sky, i'm usually just stricken with equal parts awe and sorrow. not sorrow that i'm so small in the vastness of this whole universe thing, but rather, sorrow that i feel like the only person who gets to enjoy such an amazing and beautiful sight, and that's a terribly unfair allocation of beauty, and sorrow that no one else is around to share in it.



feeling: pacified
thinking of: hmm
song of the day: nice dream - radiohead
if you think that you're strong enough, if you think you belong enough...