The Sheltering Sky
I went out to get the mail so that I would not have to leave the house again until morning. There were two Christmas cards, one from a Rummage person, one from a friend I knew in high school, and has since been more diligent than I at keeping in touch. Also in the mail were two DVDs from Netflix; I timed my return of the last two so that I would not be caught short over the holiday weekend. Walkabout and The Apartment. There were also some throwaways, the loose stuff that comes every Friday, and some things that interested me so little that I dropped them and forgot them.
The snow lies on the ground in patches now, and it crunches under foot. It is dark out now, the longest night of the year. It is rather warm and calm out, though, and sometimes it is pleasant to go out there and be under the night sky. Cloaked in darkness, hidden from the world, halfway between the stars above and the earth below, complete in solitude and not at all detached.
I
don't expect any stars tonight. As I drove home there was a
featherbed of cloud covering the sky. But the stars are still there.
I have never been disappointed when I have gone out and taken the
time to look at the sky. It's a long night and there is an eternity
between now and morning. I think I'll step outside tonight, and gaze.
