The Stars Are My Nightlight
Laying in bed last night listening to a very violent wind storm enact chaos upon the surrounding area, I realized how genuinely dark it is in Trachi. There are no LED clock lights glaring the time at all hours, no street lights shining in the distance, no computers and television power buttons flickering off and on throughout the day. When night falls, night falls. The darkness is so pure that if it were not for the sounds of the horses echoing in through the open windows, I would fear that I had been buried alive (when I first arrived here, I would panic in the middle of the night and reach my hands out in front of me to make sure I wasn’t in a coffin). The stars are so clear in the sky that I envy astronomy buffs and wish I had a book that could help me name each constellation. Or perhaps I like not having a name for things, perhaps it’s simpler to just see the stars and not worry about mapping them out perfectly. Perhaps I am learning to slow down and “be Greek.”
The full moon a few weeks ago shone so brightly in the sky that I needn’t carry a flashlight with me. Incredibly enough, you can actually watch the moon rise here. I’m not certain if its path across the sky is simply more obvious here or if, now that things have slowed down here, I am able to take time to catch my breath and experience the moon rise, rather than glancing at it occasionally like I would at home. Either way, watching it float up above the hills each night is a beautiful thing and I’m hoping to watch the moon rise as often as possible in the future and not worry about “missing out” on life back home.