Blissfully blessed, having a blast, lying on fresh, puffy towel spread on flat stony surface, skin tightly chilled after a dive slowly drying under warm morning sun peek-a-booing behind furry cloud - huge cotton puff up above revealing the celestial orange as it moves slowly in the shape of an immense heart accompanied by the soundtrack of waves licking away the hard rock candy. The sky is in love. Two girls break nature's symphony with their twenty-first century atonic screaming."Get in! that's my girl! It's not cold once you are in, do it! Do it now!" "I can't, it's freezing! Oh, my God!" "Just jump!" (5 minutes of repetitive exchange of useless sounds that could inaugurate the new school of advanced torture methods). Finally, big splash, as heavy body-bomb hits water. "Oh! Oh! God! I'm gonna die!", "No you 're not!", "I tell you I am frozen" (another 5 minute demo). Apollo's disk is out now, giving us the full frontal while the heart-cloud changes its emotional state with a different emoticon. It transforms into a perfect fist with the middle finger protruding. The sky has a heart that turns into a hand that gives the loud girls the middle finger. The sky is an entity in love who also happens to have a great sense of humor and can read my mind, occasionally.
The conscientious valedictorian crickets' choir announces the summer nights on the island. Pitch black velvet perforated by a million stars. At first, placid and serene and hopelessly romantic and then as busy as Manhattan traffic on a weekday rush hour. The sky-watching vacationeers get to see a real super production from their first class seats. Initially, the show starts with the one or two shooting stars that jump-start the system and get the body's chemicals flowing, emotions streaming and promises rolling. People feel very special to be witnessing meteorites hitting the atmosphere, breaking apart, bursting into flames and evaporating into oblivion. From a safe distance violence is transformed into visual magic. Then, appears an airplane with its headlights still on as it takes off from a nearby airport, sending an outwordly beam of light deep into the infinite blackness. One more sip of wine and, what the hell is this? Is it a plane? No, it is too high up and far away. It looks more like a satellite, but as it slowly moves across the sky it suddenly flashes more light and dies out after its bright second. Must be some kind of debris from a space station or whatnot. Not long into that moment and and the next space oddity passes by. Same slow course, bright explosion and fading out. More celestial junk. Wait a minute, what is that one now? It slowly moves, looks like a star but keeps on writing its course close towards the Big Dipper, steadily and uniformly until it fades away into the distance. This is no debris, or broken piece. This is the whole thing at work. It is probably watching us watching it. I tell you, try sky-gazing from the scarcely lit countryside for half an hour and you'll get tired by the action-packed view up there. Starry skies are beautifully packed with action and manmade junk.