Rides, ramblings and rants on a motorcycle.
- We are scientists, too!
8.18.2006,10:46 PM
Night-time Pleasures
I sat outside tonight on my iron bench, gazing at the stars, feeling the night open up and expand before my eyes. The heavens are the light show, reminders that we are but another speck in the night sky somewhere. Is there another looking at us, wondering?
I smiled to myself as I imagined riding my bike up to the stars, visiting one at a time, by constellation. I wonder if they retain the same conformation in space that we view here on the surface of our own planet we forget to call home. I wanted to be a jet pilot or an astronaut when I was young. I accomplished neither, but I can still dream.
When I was young I loved the mythology surrounding the constellations. I had favorites, grouped by the stories surrounding them. One of those was Pegasus, the flying horse. Another was Canis Major, the Big Dog and the brightest star, Sirius, and its master, Orion. In fact, it was Orion's belt that was my sky landmark.
I used to lay on a blanket outside all night watching the stars. Looking for the constellations and watching them like a sentinel move across the sky. Until I fell asleep on the blanket outside. Asleep, but still in the sky with the stars.
Now I have my own Pegasus, my bike. It is my flying mechanical thoroughbred with wings. And for a few moments in time, in between times, frozen in this reality, I was on the bike, flying between the stars, lit by their glow. Feeling as if I expanded beyond my bodily and earthly boundaries, going where no one has gone before.
I smiled, took a deep breath and walked back into the house. Closing the door gently behind me, wishing I could sleep on that blanket under the stars again, once more watching them cross the sky.
Goodnight moon, goodnight stars. We shall meet again some night.
As Whee and I ride along in your nightlight.
Goodnight.
I smiled to myself as I imagined riding my bike up to the stars, visiting one at a time, by constellation. I wonder if they retain the same conformation in space that we view here on the surface of our own planet we forget to call home. I wanted to be a jet pilot or an astronaut when I was young. I accomplished neither, but I can still dream.
When I was young I loved the mythology surrounding the constellations. I had favorites, grouped by the stories surrounding them. One of those was Pegasus, the flying horse. Another was Canis Major, the Big Dog and the brightest star, Sirius, and its master, Orion. In fact, it was Orion's belt that was my sky landmark.
I used to lay on a blanket outside all night watching the stars. Looking for the constellations and watching them like a sentinel move across the sky. Until I fell asleep on the blanket outside. Asleep, but still in the sky with the stars.
Now I have my own Pegasus, my bike. It is my flying mechanical thoroughbred with wings. And for a few moments in time, in between times, frozen in this reality, I was on the bike, flying between the stars, lit by their glow. Feeling as if I expanded beyond my bodily and earthly boundaries, going where no one has gone before.
I smiled, took a deep breath and walked back into the house. Closing the door gently behind me, wishing I could sleep on that blanket under the stars again, once more watching them cross the sky.
Goodnight moon, goodnight stars. We shall meet again some night.
As Whee and I ride along in your nightlight.
Goodnight.
