Image by eberhard grossgasteiger from Pexels
Observing change in nature over the past 5 years that I’ve been alive to notice
Deep blue, omnipresent black and scattered with stars in randomized yet clustered form, the horizon lacked light yet still felt like gazing into a round bowl above ones head. Years passing by, the horizon would grow lighter — not with warmth, but with a vague, unnatural light. Soon, each year passing would increasingly spread the light further and further up and around while the horizon grew increasingly lighter and stars became invisible. Moonlight shone less bright, nonetheless of being summer or winter, while the night time creatures in confusion stayed camouflaged in the forest outskirt.
The year came when the lightness became almost like day, yet no one noticed. The still night of darkness became a buzzing ambiance of light and activity, yet no one remembered the deep darkness and bright stars that were once above. Until one day, thick clouds settled the horizon, causing the overhead clear, yet muddled night, to become dotted with stars once again in better transparency even though they weren’t completely bright.
If only the distant city lights would wane, not growing for power into the peaceful countryside to disrupt the coyote’s howl or the deer’s prance; especially to keep the stars which we’ve been blessed to see from fading into eternity.
If you live in a suburban town, city, or anywhere where there’s a lot of people, you might not understand what I mean if night time for you is bright with streetlights by every corner. Though know that for every new light put up, it just gets lighter in the countryside where I live ☻
Not edited so iPhone 7 makes this appear darker (and it’s cloudy), but there’s a noticeable red glow in the middle that never used to be there, or at least was dimmer just 5 yrs ago.