|wish I could find proper credit for this|
Later, I went running underneath those same stars. It was cooler than previous nights -- not cool by any stretch of the word, but more comfortable. I pushed myself further and ran more than I walked. And every once in a while, when I needed motivation, I'd look up at the sky.
I'd see the Big Dipper -- the easiest to spot -- and maybe a few of the other ones. Cygnus the Swan, the Pegasus, Cassiopeia. I love the names of stars, and I love their stories even more. Every summer at camp, we go to the big, blow-up planetarium, where the constellations are reflected onto the walls, and listen to the ancient legends retold. The kind of myths people gather around a campfire to listen to. They come from Native Americans and Ancient Greeks and everywhere. Everywhere, they looked up at the stars. What they saw is still there, for the most part. They used the constellations for navigation, and so too do I. Just in a different way. They looked to see which way was North; when I look, it's to feel like I belong.
Maybe that's why I named this blog Starry Nights + Sunny Days. Maybe it's why I chose the alias of Starr when I first started blogging. Maybe it's why, even before that, in third grade, I joined Astronomy with dreams of becoming an astronaut. I've always loved this mysterious galaxy. It makes me feel tiny and huge all at once. It makes me feel like myself.
inspiration: read - listen - look