{thanksfully 3.0 ♦ celestial dancers}

Reykjavik 19
Though my soul may set in darkness, it will rise in perfect light;
I have loved the stars too fondly to be fearful of the night.
Sarah Williams, “From The Old Astronomer (To His Pupil)”

The other morning, Tech Boy had me follow him outside after he’d put the garbage cans at the curb, and there he pointed out to me Venus, Mars, Jupiter, the moon, and Orion. As one does. This picture we took in Iceland on a perfect night – freezing but so clear — but above our house was just as amazing, just as startling, even without the long exposure and the frozen fingers. One sees much, early in the cold of morning, with the sky still dark, and the seeing still clear. Before the headlights and the streetlights and the busyness of man(un)kind spills the day through one’s fingers, before life spills from the lamplit homes into the road, into the world. Before we think too much of ourselves, our doings, of our beings, of our presences here… before we become overwhelmed with our scope and our stride – we should look up and see. See the immensity of the sky, and think, “I am infinitesimally microscopic.”

Today I am grateful for my place in the universe – to be included, however briefly, in the grand scheme of things.


4 Replies to “{thanksfully 3.0 ♦ celestial dancers}”

  1. Oh, Tanita, so lovely. And I smiled when I pictured Tech Boy beckoning you outside to see the planets. Atticus did the same thing recently. He had headed out to go to work, and he turned around, came back inside, and told me I had to come with him to see the planets (it was Mars, Venus and Jupiter, and so pretty.)

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