Going where the species isn't to see what’s really there.
We are loud as a people. Loud like the lights of the cities forming the shell between us and the rest of the universe.
People are beautiful. They really are. Even the ones you don’t like because even a negative makes a positive more positive.
But we are loud as a people. Loud like the lights from our cities blanketing the skies forming the shell between us and the rest of the universe.
The best thing about distance is how it gives us perspective. We understand our place in the universe by the benefit of distance — observing ours and other galaxies. And it’s distance we need from the brightness generated by people. The brightness isn't bad, just too intensely about us, blinding what’s beyond — what’s bigger.
Buffalo Mountain
Colorado
1997
Staring into the night sky from the deck of a friends A-frame atop Buffalo Mountain, I saw what I first thought was a strip of clouds running through the starry sky. It was the flat, cross sectional arch of the Milky Way.
If you've never stared directly at something 100 billion large without any instrument or technology, then you’re in for a life changing experience if you can make that happen.
There are other perspectives equally immense if you can travel beyond where few go; opinions, the electronic and physical blast of media at our senses — the paradigms formed from years of habits and acceptance.
These sorts of journeys can be even more powerful than seeing the strip of the Milky Way because they’re 100% personal. But they’re also the hardest places to get to.
I’m mounting one of those journeys at this very moment. If I make it there, I’ll let you know what I see.
This post largely inspired by Adam Frank’s “About Time”
#milkyway #universe #perspective #colorado