30 January, 2009
I wandered outside last night--something I'm not wont to do, being a civilised human and all we apparently don't come into contact with real nature and 'true dark.' Ja. It's true. It's sad. I'd rather stay inside with my lappy and watch DVDs than take a walk outside and come in contact with the seedier elements of Australian fauna. You can't blame me, something makes these gods-awful noises in the night--a kind of indescribable animal call that chills me somewhere primordial.
Anyway. I wandered outside last night. It was inky dark pitted and marred by the lights of humanity. I manoeuvred myself so that the Chilean willows blocked out the neighbour's porch light, the fir tree the street light and turned my eyes upwards to that great patch of vacuum and dust that has inspired us to great feats of the imagination.
Gods it was beautiful.
The Milky Way was splashed from one side of the horizon to the other. Orion was at one end and the Southern Cross the other. I stood like that for an age and imagined that the patch of sky and stars directly above me were all I could see and that I was not standing in my backyard but out in the black surrounded on all sides by pinpricks of history. Not blinking, but cold and hard light.
I took off my glasses and all dimmed. The sky was still the sky but the stars were no longer defined and sharp and beautiful. The Milky Way was just a soft, white blur. Orion was just a thin strip made of Alnitak, Alnilam and Mintaka. The Southern Cross could have been any vague quadrangle.
Everytime I'm confronted by such awesome scenes I feel distinctly how my genes have let me down. What I wouldn't give to see such things with my bare eyes and not through the help of bent glass.
Fortresses of clouds on a clear sky. The slanting of rain on the distant mount. The choppy sea and, in the horizon, the faint outline of the city buildings.
You lose all perception of depth and detail and the world becomes a life seen through an Impressionist brush.
And it's fucking sad.
6 comments:
darn, real name alert ;D
Ahahaha~
It's doesn't matter, I was just giving you the mickey last time XD
Well, they told me I'd have to do it back when I was trying to sign up for the Army. Was a bit scared, but. :x
Every time I lament my poor eyesight, I think of prescription goggles and am suddenly intensely glad I have little passion for water. :\
:( I liked it until everything turned hazy~
pancake, consider yourself lucky - what if you do have a passion for water :(
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