Looking up that night, we should’ve seen the Milky Way. Instead we saw only clouds, and more clouds, hanging low and drawing the horizon closer. The mists on Second Beach obscured oblivion. They wrapped close like a blanket and hushed any thoughts of the infinite black beyond them, of stars far larger than we can comprehend, of the fact that even those roaring behemoths are silenced by the hollowness of space and eventually scattered out of being.
Last year I could see the galaxy from here. It was stunning; I was humbled. This year the mild damp that is planet Earth muffled the universe with clouds and swaddled us inward, letting us humans stay focused on ourselves.