I suppose the end of every day would feel as such, if I were alone in this big empty house. But usually, the blinds aren't open at this time, and the florescent bulbs create a false, cheery bravado to accompany the TV which usually blares with laughter and voices. The things people use to ward off the loneliness of dusk.
Now, through the window, I watch as the tree line, crowned in a soft yellow-blue, gradually descents into a deeper blue, eventually to be replaced with black.
Perhaps it is worse today because of the quality of the day. A rare 65 degree day in early February - especially after feeling the harsh hand of winter hit us again and again. The sky - cloudless, the air - sweet, the sun - warm. It was the kind of day with endless possibilities, of which I feel now that I did not take full advantage of.
Honestly, I spent most of today's glory inside. At church I saw friends and heard a great message, at my grandparent's house I passed time and swapped stories, at Amalie's French Bakery, I took part in a monthly tango dance and saw people I had not seen in a long time.
It was certainly a worthwhile day, but when the day is so glorious and it happens to fall on a Sunday, perhaps it would have been better spent at a park, walking barefoot through the grass. Or in the back yard, reading on a beach towel. Or taking a long, luxurious drive with the windows down and your hair blowing into a frenzy of its own.
Night does not feel lonely like dusk does. I have never been afraid of the dark. In fact, I've reveled in it for many a year. That stillness is different. It is a stillness that you are privy to, not forced to endure. It is a stillness of people, but an awakening of animals, insects and most fascinatingly, stars. I've always wondered how one could feel alone looking up at the stars. Knowing that the people before you and the ones after you will stare up and wonder at those same, glittering, magical orbs like diamonds on black velvet. The night sky renders thoughts of stories, past lives, future endeavors. It makes one feel much less important than modern society tells us we are. And perhaps that's why God gave us stars - as a way of humbling mere creatures like us. But also as a way of inspiring us. Who is not inspired by a brilliantly starry night? Like a high mountain view or the sun sinking into the ocean, it cannot help but make us say "wow." Some of us say it aloud - I'm one of these. Others just let it sink into their hearts by way of their eyes. Wishing, somehow, that they could carry it away, as we always long to do with things we love.
Those who say the night sky does not render such an effect on them are one of two things - not really looking, or denying their mortality. Somehow, I can't imagine a human being could have a heart hard enough that a long, searching look into the night sky would not penetrate. Somewhere, it must cause at least a tiny crack in coldness, brutality, pompousness and innumerable other failings of the human nature.
And if this is the goodness of the night sky, we must ask ourselves - when was the last time we really looked at it? Or went somewhere to see it, since light pollution makes its glories subdued and hazy? If I am honest, for me it was this summer as I tripped through middle America and was caught unawares as I stepped out of my tent for a late-night bathroom run in a Texas national park. It's been...nearly six months since then. It happens every night, but it's been half a year since I stopped to stare at its majesty.
So let's make it a mission this week - to be mesmerized by the stars.
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