stargazing
January 19, 2016 § 9 Comments
I am a great thinker of dreams, a poor planner of deeds. My thoughts are consistently conjuring magic, while my actions are often lost in daydreams. It was this Achilles heel that inspired seasons of good intentions and misplaced effort; glow-in-the-dark stars bundled into forgetfulness.
From the time our first child was born, my husband and I made grand plans to gather the stars for our son. Holidays and birthdays brought books, a telescope, and tiny plastic stars to be stored for another time.
The telescope was a poor quality, a compromise of cost. The books were read and disregarded. The stars, a task postponed until forgotten.
This fall, before the night air became cool, you could find our son lying on the ground outside as our dog ran playful circles around his shape. My teenager was once again the elementary student of the stars, marveling at a sky unpolluted by development.
I would wonder at his thoughts, but leave him to our pup’s companionship. Just a boy and his dog without a care in the world, smaller for the scale of the sky.
There is something comforting beneath the familiarity of the stars; markers of space in memorized shapes.
After our move, watching our son stargaze and our daughter daydream about decorating empty walls, my husband and I revisited an old love with new attentiveness.
This Christmas we shared with our children a new telescope and linked together evenings under the stars. Already this winter we have begun mapping the sky and searching the texture of the moon. We also, finally, hung those pesky plastic stars above our daughter’s bed.
It was only after the last constellation was contrived that our son mentioned his lost stars, remorsefully considering the years his own ceiling waited on our good intentions. It was our daughter who counted her leftover stars and lead the way to making right an old promise.
Now both children sleep beneath the stars and we are all falling in love with old lessons in an ancient sky.
scribblechic 
Love this Marie…it is great to be up in the mountains in its crisp clear air and watch the wonder that is the universe we are in. And if I’m lucky a meteorite or two to see an incredible array of colors as it burns up through the atmosphere.
I think we do that at a slightly smaller scale but just as important in how we come into this world and leave a trail of such beauty because of who we are within.
You made very good in what you did for your children at this age, appreciated all the more because the love with which it was given is understood at a much deeper level 🙂
Thank you for sharing your universe. Namaste
Love the imagery of individual lives as meteorites. Thank you, Mark.
We all leave a beautiful display as we go through this world Marie.
Like one of those meteorites or stars up there in the sky….colorful, glowing, shining and twinkling to get our attention, and as unique in their individuality as they can be 🙂
We do, agreed. There is beauty in each of us, but to see that beauty – well, that’s another story.
Yes Marie, I agree. On the surface it does look and feel quite rough, but that rough diamond will slowly get polished along with the beauty within it.
In the meantime is the hard work of polishing 🙂
But I suppose anything of value is only appreciated by the effort we put into something, and even then they can throw up a few surprises 🙂
Sometimes life gives us second chances.
Sometimes we’re gifted enough to see them for that they are 🙂
And when life doesn’t create those opportunities, we can choose to craft our own.
Beautiful. I’ve always had a fascination with stars and love that my kids enjoy watching the sky as well. I recently created a craft to encourage their interest: http://projectsinparenting.com/2016/01/18/constellation-sticker-craft/
There is so much elegance in simplicity. Your craft is engaging and encouraging, whimsical enough for play and guided enough for the most cautious young artist.