I can’t tell (or don’t know) if I’ll be up before dawn or if I will lay awake tonight, or any night.
I’m attracted to things going on in our skies. Perhaps insomnia has a purpose.
The night offers perspective.
The stars, the clouds, the Moon, and all those mundane and misplaced miracles (like stardust, space junk, timid teenage dreams and erotic fantasy) show us how small we actually are.
It is proportionate to our perspective.
I believe our desire to see the reality of the sky keeps our childlike curiosity alive.
I think we need things that shock and awe to maintain our sense of wonder.
Like full moons, and like tonight.
The Moon is not simply reflected light.