Anne Morrow Lindbergh

Before we sleep we go out again into the night. We walk up the beach under the stars. 
And when we are tired of walking, we lie flat on the sand under a bowl of stars. 
We feel stretched, expanded to take in their compass. 
They pour into us until we are filled with stars, up to the brim.

This is what one thirsts for, I realize, after the smallness of the day, of work, of details, of intimacy–even of communication, one thirsts for the magnitude and universality of a night full of stars, pouring into one like a fresh tide.


It's good to feel small sometimes. 
This was an excerpt from Gift from the Sea by Anne Morrow Lindbergh 


Thanks to 27polkadots.