Summer Musings

The sun was setting on yet another hot summer day.  Venus, as usual, was the first “star” to show up as the sky gradually transitioned into twilight.  As the sky gradually darkened, the other stars came slowly into view.  The moon this night had already been up, looking like a bowl tipped on its side and it, too, got brighter as the gloom deepened.  Fireflies blinked on and off as they danced on the warm evening breeze that stirred leaves ever so slightly.

   

Soon, crickets began chirping a peaceful symphony.  Not to be outdone, tree frogs began their nightly chorus, and in the distance came the bass tones of bullfrogs.  The evening songs of the birds gradually faded out, as if the birds themselves were getting sleepy and were being lulled to sleep by the frogs and crickets.

   

I sat outside on an old blanket and took this all in.  The breeze, the sounds, the smells of summer teamed up to relax my troubled mind.  I had too many things bouncing around in my head, too many worries and concerns, way too much stress.  I needed a peaceful evening like this to soothe me.

   

People who know me, see me as a “people person,” which is what I’ve learned to become over the years.  But people who really know me, know that deep down inside I’m a shy person, struggling with myriad insecurities and preferring to find solitude whenever I can, even if for a brief moment.

   

That particular night, though, I managed to sneak away from my concerns and responsibilities and to find a soft, quiet piece of ground on the outskirts of town where I could just be. 

   

Fortunately, before I left home, I’d remembered to grab a small pillow.  Laying back on the blanket, the pillow under my head, I looked up and watched the sky grow darker and the stars and planets grow brighter.  More stars appeared, and soon I could see the Milky Way faintly glowing as it streamed across the heavens and I marveled at its beauty and the thought came to me that those stars were so far away that my ancestors’ ancestors’ ancestors probably saw almost exactly what I was seeing thousands of years ago.

   

At that moment came the realization I was hoping to find.  My ancient ancestors probably had many of the concerns that troubled me.  Most likely not the same concerns, but similar ones – Was I doing the right things in my life?  What kind of future was before me?  What could I do to make my life and the lives of my loved ones better?  Have my past mistakes doomed me to a dismal future, or could I learn to overcome my shortfalls and create a future brighter than I could possibly imagine at this point?

  

And as I gazed up, I realized that I’m the product of hundreds, perhaps thousands, of generations of uncertainty, of glorious victories, of agonizing failures.  I was alive and enjoying the cosmic view that all those before me enjoyed on darkened nights.

  

I think I should do this more often, I thought.

  

“I WILL do this more often!” I said aloud.  And as if to punctuate my statement, a shooting star zipped across my field of vision.

   

Wow.