Queen Anne Park

It was hard to see the stars beyond the lights of the city. The sun had set a few hours before, so I knew they were up there. Scanning the sky beyond those buildings, I wondered if the few glimmers were stars or just airplanes. Instead the lights of the city sparkled instead. Unfamiliar buildings looked like they would be awake all night, lighting up the sky. The Space Needle in the middle stood tallest, a bright moonlight coming from the work of men and women on the ground.

Being in a city that was new to me, I had no idea what any of those buildings were for. Or what they looked like in the daylight. Instead they were just starlights shimmering from the earth. They were beautiful, without any of the smudges or grit that might be visible during the day. They were mysteries, at least to me. To the person who traveled inside the stairwell or elevator each day to the 14th story, it was work or home. The views that gave me peace might mean something so different to them.

No sounds of the city made it all the way to our viewpoint in the park. No cars, no voices, no crashes or clangs. Just a few thousand lights, filling the darkness.

A chill filled the night as those lights in the darkness didn’t bring the same heat as the sunshine or a fire. So in the dark, park visitors drew closer together, wrapped up in fluffy coats and comforting arms. Looking out at the man-made stars and wondering what sunrise might bring.

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