The Warmth of the Stars Above
By Austen Herron, OA Spring 2008
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| Austen Herron, Semester XXVI |
My classmates and I stomped down the stairs to the field, trying not to slip on the snow-encrusted ground. I had my boots on, but they only seemed to provide traction while I was walking uphill. Moving slowly, I put the toe of my boot down first on the next step and carefully placed the rest of my foot behind it. Safe. I saw a patch of wood cleared of snow and ice near the center of the next step. I carelessly dropped my foot onto it, and my boot slipped a little. It was only a centimeter or so, but it was almost enough to send me to the ground. There was only one step left between me and the path that had been worn completely free of snow. Jumping was my only chance if I wanted to stay upright. I made a flying leap, arms flailing. I was soaring, soaring, and then I braced myself as the ground came up to meet me. I crashed into the grass, almost falling to my knees, but managed to stay on my feet by putting one hand on the cold ground. I giggled at myself a little, happy that I had avoided such a catastrophe. If I had gone down, I undoubtedly would have taken some people with me.
I felt a slimy wetness on my hand, looked down, and frowned. The ground was wet, and a few stray blades of grass had stuck to the palm of my hand. Brushing the grass and mud off on my jeans, I slid awkwardly over to the circle of students and residents growing around the snow fort some of my classmates had built. Looking back to where I had just come from, I noticed a group of stragglers dragging themselves down the stairs as fast as they could without falling. I could understand why they had spent the extra seconds inside; it was absolutely freezing. I had forgotten to put on my heavy jacket, and was shivering. All I wanted to do was to go up to the dorm, put my pajamas on and go to sleep. But first, we had to sing the goodnight circle song, which was how we always ended our days at the Outdoor Academy, the boarding school I was attending.
I took a deep breath and tried to stop shaking as I joined hands with the people next to me. I managed to stay still for a few seconds, but in the end, the stillness only made me colder. The last few people filled in the gaps in the circle, completing it, and the separate conversations between the early arrivers died down.
“Goodnight boys!” one of the girls across the circle shouted. The rest of the girls chorused after her, with a few accompanying mutters from the boys. As we fell silent, I could both hear and feel the echoes of our calls whistling through the trees. I shivered harder, and not only from the cold. Even with the lights from the buildings nearby, the field was almost creepy in the darkness. I wanted to be inside.
I noticed that there was a longer pause than usual and groaned internally. Someone was supposed to start the song. Would that person remember? Would this awkward silence continue? The tension rose slightly, and I heard a few giggles projected into the silence. Then, finally, I heard the long intake of breath that could only mean one thing. I closed my eyes, tried to calm my shivering, and began to sing.
May the peace of this valley around us,
My voice was weak. I could feel my throat contracting and my teeth chattering as I shivered more, unable to stop. It was too cold. Why hadn’t I thought to bring a jacket?
The warmth of the fire within,
I tried to calm my mind, which was about as shaky as my voice. I told myself not to think about the cold, but it wasn’t working. I didn’t know what to do. I opened my eyes and searched the skyline over the treetops, desperately hoping to find something to distract myself with, and found the moon.
The shelter of the stars above us,
The moon was beautiful that night. It was almost full, and so bright that I could see every crater on its surface. Its white light calmed my mind and my shivers to some extent, but I was still cold. I took another deep breath, and inclined my head slightly to look at the stars. I could not quite decipher the groups of stars that formed constellations, but there was so much more than that in the sky that night.
The strength of the rivers nearby,
I felt myself relax slightly in the twinkling light of the beings far above my head. Something about their presence calmed me. My voice became stronger, but I hardly noticed it. I was lost in the stars. Some people say that starlight is cold. That night, I felt differently. It warmed me. My shivers stopped. There was not any one star that I could focus on. The beauty of the whole picture overwhelmed me. I looked down, at the snow covered ground. How could I have ever mistaken this place as dark? The warm light from the heavens floated down, much like the snow itself had earlier, and touched its fingertips to each separate flake of snow. The reflection that I had not seen before was now almost blinding, but I could not look away. The few patches of snow that had not been ravaged by our snowball fight earlier that day glittered as if they were covered with a layer of powdered diamonds. The shadows in the tracks that we had left behind almost seemed to dance, even though they were completely still. I wished I could dance with them, but instead I sang louder.
Guide us safely through this night,
I looked back to the stars and the moon, and studied them as if I were seeing them for the very first time. I had never noticed how the stars are all different colors. There are no two stars that are alike. I saw one point of light that was brighter than most of the others. It was a pale, rust red color. I guessed that it was a planet. I saw that there was space around the moon where only the brightest of stars shone, and all the smaller ones were blotted out by the bright halo of light.
‘Till morning lights the sky.
The echoes from the final notes of our song traveled much further than just into the trees. Now they swirled around the stars and encircled the moon. I wasn’t cold any more. I felt as though I could jump higher and run faster than I ever could before. I wished that I could keep singing, keep filling myself up with that light gathered from the stars, but it was time to go back inside. Preparing to break the circle, I took one long last look at the night sky as I squeezed the hands of the people next to me.
“Goodnight, everyone.”
