Goodbye Big Sky

By the time you read this, the stars will be gone.

Not gone from the Universe, but gone from our sight.

Over the weekend, an antenna the size of a squash court will be unfurled over our heads.

Some people are worried that its reflection will be so bright that we won’t be able to see any of the stars.

It probably won’t be as bad as people say, but it won’t be the last shiny big thing we hang above our heads.

Many city folk have never seen the stars anyway. So they won’t know what they’re missing.

Not properly seen them:

Lying flat, back pressed safe against our big warm rock, eyes wide to catch every photon, soul lifted into the thick, swirling, endless night.

On the rare occasion I get to truly see the stars, I shit you not, I cry every time.

My heart aches for our loss now and our losses to come.

Get out and look at the stars tonight from somewhere really dark.

You will probably have to drive quite far.

But at least you won’t have to go to space.