Thursday, January 27, 2011

The Sight of the Stars Makes Me Dream

I miss the stars. In Hamilton, they’re nothing but a few dim pin pricks here and there in the murky city sky. I miss home, on the South Bruce Peninsula, where the stars glitter in the darkness like billions of spilled diamonds.

I’m obsessed. Most of you wouldn’t know that I’m a member of the Royal Astronomical Society of Canada. I used to get sent thick books on the latest night sky news. The best were the Star Maps, where depending on what season it was, it would tell you the location of the constellations and planets that were visible at that time.

My dad and I would drag a mattress down from our cottage and put it on the dock. Then we’d map out my favourite constellations, like Cassiopeia, Orion, Scorpius, Ursa Major, Ursa Minor, and read about their Greek origins. We’d find galaxies, and prominent stars like Alpha Centauri and Polaris (the North Star). We’d count all the shooting stars that we saw, and I’d show off my knowledge of the meteoroid turning into a meteor as it entered Earth’s atmosphere. We’d track satellites. We’d try to differentiate between satellites and space junk. We’d study the moon with binoculars. I asked millions of questions about time travel and black holes and aliens and light speed. I was dying to figure out its mysteries.

The night sky is fascinating. I think the part that captivates me the most is how small Earth is in comparison. We’re nothing. Literally, we’re a speck of dust in the Sahara desert. Yet somehow, we’re here, alive, and loved. It doesn’t make sense for God to care about us, but he does. It’s a beautiful thing.   

I think my infatuation with the stars as a child has turned me into the person I am today. Outdoorsy, I guess you could say, and living in the city this year is beginning to feel like I’m trapped in a suburban cage. (Not that I don’t appreciate this experience.)

I’m the kind of girl who never wears shoes in the summer, prefers cut off jeans and old t-shirts over fancy clothes, and loves sleeping outdoors rather than in a bed. While a lot of kids my age are out in clubs, my idea of fun is paddling through Muskoka’s back country lakes, or hiking steep trails, exploring caves, visiting quiet coffee shops, reading on porch swings… I think you get the picture.

The stars have taught me to appreciate life for what it really is; full of mystery and desperately wanting to be discovered. I’m not going to waste it by being cooped up in a prestigious office building or partying with people who are trapped in a high school mind set.

I can’t wait to move home this summer because I feel like the city is causing me to slightly lose myself. Being here gives me maturity, but it takes a toll too. Am I the only one who feels this way? I don’t know how people can live their entire lives within the concrete and smog and overpopulation. There is man-made beauty here, but that can only satisfy me for so long.

The end of April couldn’t come too soon…


  1. I read this before and meant to comment, you're quite a complex person (in a good way) I mean that there's so much I still don't know about you even though we've been friends for a little while, but Taylor you fascinate me

  2. Wow. I don't know who you are. But everything you just wrote is so beautiful and you are so wonderful and unique. I love the way you write, and I wish I could write the same way. Perhaps then I would be able to express myself with more meaning. Do keep writing!