Robinson Crusoe was stuck on an island. My husband and I, along with other Clark County residents, are stuck on a cruise ship, watching a pleasant 15-day cruise turn into a 30-day marathon looking for a port to land. We are acutely aware that things are better here than for many on land, but even so, sometimes the worries and fears can be overwhelming.
It was just after midnight when I decided that only a glass of wine and a look at the stars would finally get me to sleep. So I went searching for a bar and a higher deck.
The bars were closing. “Sorry, ma’am.” “It’s too late, ma’am. We’re done for the night.” I headed to a bar on Deck 12 that stayed open late.
Nope. Private party.
Smiling, I turned and leaned against the rail, looking at the heavens. With the ship lit up like a Christmas tree, it took a while for my vision to adapt to the dark, but I shielded my eyes and waited while the stars came out.
And oh, so many stars. It was beautiful and stunning and humbling. I recognized the Big Dipper and Orion and the beautiful, smudgy band of the Milky Way.
Finally at peace, I headed back to bed with Walt Whitman on my mind:
I wander’d off by myself,
In the mystical moist night-air, and from time to time, Look’d up in perfect silence at the stars.
Yeah. That.