At four minutes past three this morning, when I walked outside on the back deck and looked skyward, I was treated to an amazing, spectacular vision. It was as if the stars had not hidden themselves behind the ambient light beneath them as usual but, instead, were in full grandstander mode. Millions of them danced above me. If I knew the constellations, I easily could have pointed them out to you…if you were here. But you were asleep, weren’t you? That’s the trouble with waking up in the middle of the night; there’s no one to talk to, no one to call. But that’s also the delight of dead-of-night, isn’t it? The solitude. The glorious, illuminating solitude. Sometimes, being alone can be lonely. But being alone can be liberating, too, giving one the opportunity to explore thoughts and ideas and imaginings without worry of interruption. I sometimes wonder why I write all the words I put down, knowing the audience on any given day is either small or nonexistent. I need not wonder; I do it because I want to capture how I feel, what I think, what brings me joy or moves me to tears. When I looked skyward a while ago, I wished I could put into words the sense of wonder I felt as I stared at the stars. I wished I could seize on just the right words to describe not only what I saw, but how I felt. I will not know whether my words will serve as adequate reminders to me until some time in the future when I read them; but I suspect that, having spent time pondering how to describe what I saw and felt has etched into my consciousness and subconsciousness what I saw. Perhaps that’s what my daily musings are all about. Perhaps they’re about something else entirely. Now that I think about that, I guess I realize I’ll never really know. I only know the only way to exorcise my mind is to exercise my fingers.

About John Swinburn

"Love not what you are but what you may become."― Miguel de Cervantes
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