Star Gazing

A couple of weeks ago we drove up Mount Seymour to watch the Perseid meteor shower away from the bright lights of the city. It was a lovely evening with excellent viewing conditions – warm and clear with very little moonlight. We parked at the far end of one of the parking lots, where there was a large enough gap in the trees to show lots of sky, and lay on a rug by our car with eyes fixed on the heavens.

We weren’t alone in our contemplation. All along one side of the lot there were parked cars with small knots of people sitting or standing nearby – or in one case, snuggling in nests of blankets on top of the car itself. So every shooting star was accompanied by a chorus of ‘ooohs’ and ‘looks!’ or ‘I missed that one’ breaking through the gentle background murmur of good friends exchanging confidences and swapping jokes in the dark.

The stars, those that stayed in their place as well as the shooting ones, were beautiful. And so was the feeling of human companionship and the shared appreciation of a special night. It was a reminder for me of one of the things I love about Christian spirituality – that it’s a spirituality only properly done in communion with others. I personally love and need time alone but I also relish the companionship of a shared spiritual journey.

Look up from time to time and see the beauty singing from the skies. Look sideways often and see the beauty laughing and weeping in human faces. Look inwards now and again and see the beauty springing deep within. All three viewpoints are called for if we’re to open our eyes to behold the beauty of the divine.

6 thoughts on “Star Gazing

  1. Reminds me, if I may, of a meteor shower Susan and I saw from Spanish Banks some years ago:

    Past midnight, the tide’s out far, the city is a distant glow.
    Above: Orion, brilliant; the Pleiades, Jupiter, and
    Meteors, streaking long bright tails through Cassiopeia,
    jabbing short bright thrusts from Leo,
    settling feathers in the south.

    We huddle on the beach for warmth and, with other
    dark groups scattered, are united with each flare
    in Aaaahs and hoots the young, like coyotes,
    pass to others down the shore.

    Your shoulder fits beneath my arm so well,
    the damp wool of your tuque
    smells fresh as youth:
    Some things stay.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s