A Starry Night [From 2-18-09]

The next morning we woke up early to go fishing with Andy.

He took us to the nearby harbor, and we caught some little red snapper for supper. I let two of them go (That must be where the saying “off the hook” came from), but Andy caught one substantial enough for Sarah and I to eat that night... Andy doesn’t like fish.

In between fishing and eating fish, I test drove a manual compact car for the first time on the left side of the road, steering wheel on the right side of the vehicle, gear-shift on my left. Weird. Really weird. It was an old Mitsubishi Galant with nearly 400 thousand Kilometers on it. That’s about 250,000 miles. We got back up the hill to Andy’s after I learned how to do an uphill start, but decided against buying the car even though it was the equivalent of about $400 USD. We had our eye on another prize…

But more on that later…

What was really special about this day was the evening.

Remember that little Dr. Suess house at the top of the world?

Sarah and I went up there for the night to play some cards and have some freshly picked chamomile tea with cinnamon. Sitting comfortably with knit blankets on an old couch I put my headlamp on (thanks Amy Paris) and read my book. We drank the tea with high expectations, but it turned out not being so great... it was surprisingly weak for fresh flowers. After reading for a while and writing for longer I felt slightly restless inside the humid room, so I stepped outside with my headphones to just cool off. I laid down on my back flat on the small section of bare deck just outside the only door, put on some tunes and looked straight up at the glorious infinite sky. It seemed to be much closer to my face than ever before. “With Rainy Eyes” came on my headphones, a tune by The Emancipator--an artist just recently put into my constant rotation (Thanks Vince Haddad). Chills ran up and down my spine, goose bumps spotted my arms and legs. These aren’t the kind you get from a sudden gust of wind, though I felt the cool breeze against my entire body coming from all directions, shifting from one side to another in constant chaos. Nature was strong that night and she was demonstrating for me.

The coast was just behind me, rolling hills in front of me, and what seemed like a perfect 180 degrees of Milky Way hovered directly above me. I could see it all as the cones and rods in my eyes adjusted, tuning to the key of brilliance. I breathed a chest full of fresh air, feeling every inch of my lungs absorbing the crisp oxygen coming off the ocean and filtering through the bush. A natural high made my senses extra keen. The only lights present were the few tea-light candles flickering from within the tiny cabin. I could see the stars and sky more perfectly than ever before, save one previous occasion in the middle of Dunhuang, China. Orion’s belt was straight above and the Southern Cross just down the way, though you could hardly focus on any constellation for long as so many of the stars all around were so bright the entire sky seemed like a surreal scene from The Fountain or maybe Astronomy picture of the day. I saw four shooting stars within the small period of time I was out there alone… the perfect number for the perfect night. I made the same wish on all of them.

The song became forever burned into my memory along with the image and the associating feelings that had me repeating in my head, "I am actually out here, experiencing this right now. Because I chose to do so. This is what I want right now and I have it.”

I own my life.

At the same time, I recognize and appreciate what a privilege this has been for me. In light of this, I won’t take one moment for granted and I will put as much effort back into my experiences and wisdom as this trip has afforded me.

“Perhaps they are not stars, but rather openings in heaven where the love of our lost ones pours through and shines down upon us to let us know they are happy.”

-Eskimo Proverb


As you must understand, the naked eye sees far more than my camera could record. But I've attempted to recreate the experience anyways. Turn your speakers up: