Stargazing.

On only our 4th night ever of camping in our pop up camper, we had our first 3am 'potty situation'. I forgot to put a pull up on Piper and, well, she and I woke up to a wet bed. I quietly took care of things hoping not to wake the delicate sleepers on the other side of the camper. I scooped Piper up to take her inside the cottage where we were camping. We were both tired. 

With her arms and legs wrapped tightly around me, we made our way through the darkness to the house. In the distance, hidden frogs were croaking and the crickets softly played their song. Everything was still. Calm. I paused for a moment to look up. There were so many stars. 

"Piper! Piper, baby, look up. Look at all of the stars!"

With her hands still clasped behind my neck, she leaned back; arms stretched to their limit. Her hair hung loose as she tilted her head back to drink in the galaxy for the very first time.

"That's the Milky Way," I whispered... "and a shooting star!" Her first ever.

We paused in the quiet; in the dark. Looking up. She had never seen this many stars before. I can't remember the last time I had. The night was alive. A sense of peace and smallness and otherworldliness washed over me. Here on Earth, last week was brutal and violent. The calm glow of thousands of stars from thousands of years ago brought me such a sense of perspective and peace. It was exactly what I needed. 

We gazed a few moments more until I pulled her back to my chest. We held each other close, and carefully made our way inside.