It's late, but I don't mind. The night time doesn't seem to make me tired these days. It's like when the stars come out for everyone else; the suns are coming up for me, each one burning billions of light years away from where I am now. The others were all in bed long ago, and I don't think any of them realise I still come out here to sit with the stars and just exist. I used to do this with our mother frequently. If I couldn't sleep, she would just know. She would come into my room, and we would go together to just sit in the starlight and exist together. No talking is really needed; it's nice sometimes to just be. The others wouldn't understand that concept, especially my younger brothers, and I love them for their unlimited energy. She understood though.
The summer nights are the best, it's warm then and more often clear so you can stay out for hours without ever feeling the need to leave or go back inside. I learnt all of the constellations with her that first summer we had living here, bringing out maps and books with us each night. Winter brings its own special feel though, especially under the starlight in the snow. The whole world suddenly becomes ethereal and unreal, like you are walking through a dream scape. The starlight becomes brighter, sending its eerie glow into all of the corners, so all of the shadows seem to just disappear. At that point the cold doesn't really matter.
We're moving away next week. Dad says he found an island where we can live and he can start his dream. I will still be able to sit and watch the stars from that new home, but they won't be our stars, they won't be the same. Then again I suppose, once we move there nothing will ever be the same again. If dad's dream comes to plan…we'll just have to wait and see.
I will come back and visit here though, I promise. It might not be very often, and I might not be able to find the exact spot, but I will come back. These are our stars, and I will treasure them forever.
