Its a night like this one, when the air is cool and a bit crisp, but still and silent, and the moon peaks over tree limbs while the stars cling to the sky like bugs on a windshield (or like splotches of ink on notebook paper, if the tools were reversed) I may feel most alive. I'm running, my lungs are swelling and sweat is framing my face, but my legs are weightless and spry. This is the feeling of
possibility and....hope, because you feel powerful and backed by something powerful as well.
It also makes me think of Africa, where I have felt more alive and...in sync; its something which is immensly difficult to put into words because the feeling is typically at a time or in a moment you weren't necessarily prepared for. My moments are unexpected and sometimes slowly but often instantly, I feel full. If something were missing, I feel like I found it. The stars usually do it, and in Africa the stars were more dazzling than I have ever witnessed. Its a night like this one that feeling comes back along with the remembrance of things that have accompanied it...
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