A few weeks ago, in the country, far from the lights of the city, I saw the entire sky 'powdered with stars' (in Milton's words); such a sky, I imagined, could be seen only on high, dry plateaus like that of Atacama in Chile (where some of the world's most powerful telescopes are). It was this celestial splendor that suddenly made me realize how little time, how little life, I had left. My sense of the heavens' beauty, of eternity, was inseparably mixed for me with a sense of transience -- and death.
Posted by dean
at 10:12 PM