It’s 7PM here on the west side of Rocky Mountain National Park but it is hot, so we retreat to the shady side of the RV for some relief. Our fire is built of dried pine which burns bright and quick. We eat, we drink, I play guitar. Some other campers come over to listen. We wait as the evening falls for the first star to appear and who will see it. The sun sets behind the western mountains. Slowly, the mountains darken but the sky above them stays bright. The clouds turn from white, to lavender and pink, and then they become grey against a sky that is still refusing to give up its blueness. The mountains are a dark green but before you realize it, they become black. Their separation from the still bright sky is a firm, black, line.

And the first star appears. First one, and then as if assured by the first that its OK to show themselves, others start to follow. And as I watch this most ancient of shows unfold before me, I feel connected to this change from night to day, so much more than I could ever feel a part of what’s on TV at 9:00 tonight. I am a witness to the timeless change of day to night as every human has witnessed since the beginning of human time.  I am connected to the earth and the sun and the stars and the awareness of this timeless event, and I am happy. I ams so happy, that I have the time to sit and observe and truly enjoy this passing of time that precedes all clocks, and cell phones and text messages, and TV shows. This timeless event is so much more personal. This is so much more welcoming. This event so much more makes you a part of the universe and nature and eternity.

As the camp fire settles down for the evening, I watch as the heavens slowly draw their dark blanket over our side of the earth. The sky is coming alive as one star after another makes their presence known. Constellations start to form from groups of suns whose distance in light years is more than impossible for humans to fathom. Yet, we see them. As I stare up, I am aware that most of us miss this daily changing of the guard. And the wonderment I am experiencing, is the same that has been experienced by others through the centuries. We are connected.

The air is colder now and that is normal for this time of year in the Rockies. I move closer to the dying embers of my fire. I am lucky to be a witness to this event. I am a part of something greater than our daily travails. I feel acutely alive. I feel purposeful, maybe because I belong to it and it belongs to me. I am part of something that is so much bigger, that is so simple yet so mesmerizingly magical. What more could I ask for on a night like this, or, on any day for that matter.