Back when I was an older kid, I remember riding my bike around after dark…. and sometimes just sitting at the edge of a wheat field and looking out across the field to the eastern sky.
Because where I lived in the far west suburbs, the sky in the east always sort of looked like dawn. There was an orangish glow that spread out along the horizon as far to the north and the south as I could see… created by the lights of the city.
I can remember one christmas that I was at my grandma’s house, and was outside waiting for parents, and stared at the slightly orangish grey night sky. I remember thinking how awful it was, and how much I really would hate to have that sky.
We moved into town when I was 15… and I guess somewhere along the way I got used to it. Pretty much everywhere I’ve lived since then has been close enough to the city to be under its glow.
Last night, we drove out to an observatory… about 4 or 5 miles from where I grew up… to watch the meteor shower. And we didn’t even have to go inside to see tons more stars than even hint to exist from our house.
My daughter was amazed at even being able to see lighter and darker areas…. and millions and millions of stars instead of the hundred or so brightest ones that have always been in her sky.
And at the sunrise… that was actually still just the city glow. It was actually kind of hard to really explain to her that what seems like dark to her at night is actually still caught up in the reflection of millions and millions of lights that she may not even see but still distort the view.
Besides just being a reminder of something I miss but forget about in daily life… it also made me wonder a bit.
How much do we miss the vastness of God because of “glow”?
As numerous as the stars…. is amazing and awe-inspiring in the country.
In the city? Well, if I gave it some time to come up with a strategy to section off parts so I didn’t double count, the task totally seems do-able.
How many other ways do I not even realize how little I see, from the effects of glow off of things that aren’t even in my range of vision?
How many ways I am so used to an orangish grey, that I forget that things aren’t supposed to be that way?
And how do I get to “the country” to see a more accurate view?