It’s one of those nights. The ones that are…not beautiful, or even perfect;

Perhaps it’s simple whimsy gliding through the air, but it’s enough to momentarily halt your industrious stroll over crackling pavement, lure you onto your patio or coax you into leaning out of an open window to just, well—breathe.



And in, and out again.

And, oh would you look at that! It’s a twinkling star! So whimsic—wait. Oh ok, wait. Nope that’s a cellphone tower.

As you were!

If you have the privilege of living in a large city, this no doubt is commonplace for you. You see the city, you see the lights, but you’ll rarely ever see the stars. What’s worse? You’ll never even know what you’re missing.

In the last weeks before summer gave over to fall, whimsy slipped into Huntsville and pulled me out onto a freshly manicured lawn. I grabbed my fiancé, spread a blanket, switched on my IPod, twisted open a bubbling bottle of Sprite and laid back.

All around, the lights of the city burned orangey gold, while the sky above domed over us like a deep purple bowl reaching into eternal black. Greek mythology and my own strange imaginings merged, arched and danced before me. Cygnus The Swan soared with wings outstretched into its depths. Delphinus The Dolphin arched joyfully beside him while Lyra The Harp shimmered with the melancholy tunes of love lost so, so long ago.

This view—was everything!

And while the rest of the world whirled into a dizzying spin with business and parties, errands and so many things to do, I was content to live in Huntsville and just, well—