“If the stars should appear but one night every thousand years, how man would marvel and stare.”

– Ralph Waldo Emerson

One night last week, I walked outside and looked up into the vast night sky.  There were no clouds to obscure my view, and the moon was hidden behind a building across the street.  What met my gaze was startling — STARS!  Hundreds and thousands of STARS!  There are some nights when they seem to shine more brightly than others; and this was one of those nights.  Now, I know that the stars are always shining — even in the daytime, when the light of the sun overpowers their distant ones — but it takes a night like this one to capture my attention and take me to a place of marveling at their beauty.

Emerson is right.  If stars appeared only once each 1,000 years, there would be books written about their appearance.  There would be poems and stories and maybe even new religions that would arise as a result of the phenomenon.  We are treated to this phenomenal beauty every single night; but, especially in our days of artificial light and the entertainment of electronic media, we don’t even bother to step outside after dark and enjoy the stars.

As I’ve often said, I am an early riser.  We are just reaching my favorite time of the year for early-morning walks.  Where I live, the sunrise time has moved to about 6:30 AM.  This means that when I awake at 5:30, night still owns the sky.  If I time it just right, I can start my walk under the stars and arrive at the top of the hill just in time to see the sun paint the sky before it climbs above the horizon and takes over the day shift.  I descend the hill in daylight, and the birds sing me home.  I tell myself at this time of year that I will remember to visit the stars throughout the year; but the truth is that I forget, and they spend most of the winter without my company.

It’s time to renew my acquaintance with Hercules and the Great Bear as they romp in the early-morning sky.  In an ever-changing world, it is comforting to know that their presence is constant.  I will talk to them as I make my way up the hill and into daylight, and my mind will review the stories told about them — and maybe add some new ones of my own.

Let’s be aware of the beauty all around us!  Should we really have to wait a thousand years between starry nights to appreciate the light they bring to our lives?