Good things come to those who wait

This weekend, I was blessed with a trip to Arizona where I stayed in a palace with fifteen other royally genuine human beings. The generosity that I witnessed and the laughs that I shared deserve a blog post in themselves, so instead of trying to encompass all of the greatness I experienced this weekend into one post, I will focus on the one thing that I cannot stop thinking about: stars.

The universe is a fucking huge place and, although the majority of it is empty space, it is filled with uncountable amounts of stellar objects. From the hut tub I was lounging in last night, the dark sky was busy with stars and planets and nebulas and specs of dust, all bursting with energy and shining it down on us.

The best part of the night sky, for me, is that the longer you look at it, the more stars become visible. As your eyes adjust to the darkness and blur the chandelier's glow into peripheral yellow blobs, what looked like a slice of emptiness becomes filled with brightness. Sure, Deneb and Capella, and Venus will be bright the first moment you look up, but it takes some time to notice Pleiades and the other unnamed stars. Over time, the sky will turn from a wall with chipping paint to a speckled lady bug to a tribute to Seurat's pointillism- its emptiness unnoticeable beside things that shine.

And so now, back home in a light polluted suburb, the night sky will be dark. But, I know, if I wait long enough and aim my focus with confidence, even the most empty sky will hold something shining.