Stars That Clear Have Been Dead For Years

Not long after waking up this morning, I realized that my Sunday Morning Song of the Moment song would turn into a Monday Morning song as well.
Man, I hate that.

I was struggling with a topic. A fluid thought. I rarely, if ever, can come up with something funny.

Today is absolutely no different. Nothing funny. It wasn't until I sat down just this moment that I think I have something interesting to say. We'll see.

I remember being on an island, not so long ago. Well, to be exact - it was 10 years ago this past August. So, relatively no so long ago. You get my drift.
I had never been on an island before. Other than Tangiers Island in Virginia.

So, I was on this island. And I had become acutely aware of my smallness. The smallness of the island in the vast, vast Pacific Ocean became all that filled up my mind. I had never been so aware of my place in the grand scheme of things. It was frightening and exciting. After my initial shock wore off, I found myself totally immersed in this island. The weather, the smell of the air, the simpler way of life, the food, the sun - you name it, I was all over it. It had never occurred to me that grass could be so green. The sky could be so blue. The air so clean. The water so pristine. Despite all of the human activity, this island seemed relatively unharmed.

It was here, on this island, where I got to 'dance' with sea turtles. It was here on this island that I realized my soul, my spirit was like a breeze. It went wherever it wanted to, whenever it wanted to. I realized that things would never be the same when we left.

The trip had it's faults. Mainly due to human behavior. Some mine. Some that belonged to someone else. The expectations put upon such a place, a once-in-a-lifetime trip were too much for people that could barely walk without stumbling from time-to-time. It had nothing to do with the island. But everything to do with human error, egos, and impending feelings of losing something.

I remember being out on the lanai on our first evening there. After I had come down from my shock/panic attack. I looked up at the sky & it was if I had seen the stars for.the.very.first.time. The sky was a color I have never seen before or since. And the stars that I've looked at my whole life, were a different color and clarity. It was like looking at a diamond in Wal-Mart and then wearing a ring from Tiffany's.

What really struck me was how close the sky and the stars appeared to be. It was almost as if I put my arm up above my head I would touch the sky with my palm. That I could actually run my fingertips along this inky, black goodness and my whole hand would be glittering from all of the stars that had attached themselves as I did this. I had even entertained the notion that I would be able to grab the moon and dribble it like a basketball or use it as a beacon.
This was my ritual. Every night. To look up at this new sky. I wanted to see it everynight, to make sure it was real. And then to drink it in for as long as I could. Who knew that in a place filled with so many sights: jungles, rain forests, volcanoes, locals, beaches, sunsets - something so everyday was what I longed for the most? Here on this island was how the sky should always look. And I wanted that etched into my memory. Something that I could draw on at a later time.

It has been my dream since meeting Rav that we would go there. This is a place I feel we must see together. I want him to experience such a peaceful, all-natural place. I want him to smell clean air and grass that is green because the soil is lush from volcanic ash and clean soil. Not green because of chemicals placed there. This is my dream for us. Something so natural, pure and happy.

I'd like to see if the sky still looks that clear there now. Or if it was clarity I was looking for at a tumultous time in my life and clarity I had found. Even if it was temporary.

**I just wanted to add here that I am heartbroken because I cannot add my own pictures as my scanner has decided it won't let me scan.**

3 ripples in the pond:

deb said...

I remember being in Hawaii six years ago, we were staying on a plantation, out in the country. One night another guest had a telescope out and she was looking at the night sky. Even without the telescope I had never seen anything so beautiful in all my life. There were so many stars in the sky, it didn't look real, and they stretched from horizon to horizon. It was amazing. Thanks for helping me to remember that.

jen said...

you need to do whatever it takes to go back to that island. life is fearfully short enough.

make it happen.

Joker The Lurcher said...

this reminds me of being on Moorea in 1988. i was travelling round the world on my own and this was a rest from the cities i was in.

i sat on a beach with some local fishermen. one of them lit a fire and another waded out into the shallows with a bit of bamboo he had cut and a torch. he shone the torch and caught some fish on the bamboo like a spear. we cooked them on the fire.

the only language we had in common was french (and mine is very poor!) so we spoke using drawings in the sand and sign language. and in this beautiful place we talked about nuclear testing in the pacific and how it was affecting the fish they caught, about chernobyl and how it had affected the sheep in north wales, about our hopes for the future. they had heard of france but not of europe.

i will never forget that night - it taught me in spades how similar people are all over the world, how we worry about the same things and care about the same things. and how huge the natural world is and how very insignificant we are.