My neck feels cramped

While hitching home to our humble abode in Black Creek the other night, I found myself on a remote road that connects the inland highway to the old island highway down here (Hamm Rd). It's almost nine now, and it's already quite dark. Probably half an hour from anything remotely resembling a large city; this kind of darkness is so thick that I can see the light pollution of Courtenay from a large enough clearing of trees.

After almost an hour of walking and driving now, and I'm tempted to start feeling sorry for myself until I realize I have been blessed more tonight than any for a long time. I finally look up to see more stars than I can ever remember seeing, and a big streak of stars so thick that it could only be the milky way flying from one skyline to the other! I was so captivated that I can't even really remember how long I walked before Trevor came and picked me up later on that night.

I really don't feel like ranting about how we ignore the beauty of nature, or how we need to praise God for his majesty in the things like this (granted those are both true) but something else that captured me that night. I felt nourished while my neck was bent backwards for what seemed like hours. The beauty that I got to behold seemed to fill something. It's like God made beauty for me to make me feel closer to him, or maybe to just let me experience it because he knows that's what our souls long for. I can't say it in any other way than that I felt like I was being sustained, nurtured, venerated...