I’m grateful for stars. They make me feel so small, remind me of my place in nature and the universe. And because of that, I remember, too, that none of my successes is all that great, but also that none of my mistakes is all that catastrophic and unforgivable.
Stars evoke some of my loveliest mundane memories. Camping by the beach and sitting on the sand at night, looking up into the starry sky, waves crashing nearby; lying on tarmac head-to-head in a circle with friends in country Australia on a cul-de-sac, gazing straight up at a sky peppered with stars, talking and laughing; New Year’s Eve in rural Italy with friends, stars and fireworks mixing and mingling and lighting up the sky; and night-sailing in the school holidays, lying on a deck, cutting through the water, clear skies, and in the pitch-dark of deep sea, the sky is a dusty, dusky carpet of stars of all sizes.