Throughout this past summer, whilst living in a new city, I was constantly reminded of the little things. Every so often I would sit on the balcony of the floating home at night, and almost every time I looked up, the big dipper was as bright as ever right there in the sky.
Upon my final return back to pick up a girl whom I love dearly I was on a flight headed east toward Wisconsin. While the sun slowly began to set under the western skyline a single light remained lit on top of the plane well into its course.
Part way through the trip, however, I happened to look out the window at the instant that single light went off… and there was the big dipper again, as bright as ever, staring back at me perfectly through the tiny plane window.
While the ladle appeared as though it could instantly scoop up any one of the small and dimly lit cities beneath us as we passed I couldn’t help but realize how small we were, and how far I’d come over the years. I was also reminded of how the same constellation was there staring me in the face as I looked passed my front windshield throughout a previous journey West across the United States.
Having not realized until that second that this reoccurring sight seemed to be pushing me toward a new direction I sat back and took it all in.
Sometimes it’s the little things.