We pondered, as so many did then and since, on the vastness of the Universe asking the age-old questions, the “who”, “when” and “why” of that most puzzling of cosmic conundrums[5]. Being but children we, somehow, expected an answer to the unanswerable, an explanation that was within our understanding, anchoring[6] firmly our belief system, justifying our place in the scheme of things. Looking back now, I can recognize so well the delightful safety net of childhood’s naivety and the belief that all could be explained somehow, somewhere.
We lost ourselves in the night sky sparkling with pinpricks of dancing light and sought out the few constellations[7] we could readily recognize, the “Great and Little Bears”, with Polaris, the “Pole Star”, ever guiding the men of the sea for many centuries past. We knew so little of our galaxy, “The Milky Way”, but our fertile, ever questing imagination ran to its limitations and to an abstract beyondness.
It must have been close to midnight when the first shooting stars appeared, arcing across a night sky already garlanded[8] with twinkling jewels of light. The sudden, brief incandescence[9] of their trails, was I remember, a thrilling, wonder-filled experience, bringing gasps[10] of delight from both of us. We made countless wishes for health and wealth and happy days, for timeless moments like this, and for lives that we hoped would be rich with such unforgettable experiences.
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