Distance

I watched the moon last night. It wasn't a full moon, but it was bright enough that it made the world glow. I headed out into the night, ready to let the darkness steal my thoughts away. And I would gladly let it. I headed out, turning the porch light off as I went. Surprised by the way the landscape was still illuminated. I turned my face upward, completely awed by the sky before me. It was a hazy night. Not cloudy, not entirely clear. But a light haze covered the night sky, like a morning dew on grass right before a June day heats up the earth. The moon though, was not alone last night. She brought with her a ring of smoke that settled around her like an audience. Her light cast upon the haze and the ring seemed to come alive. I couldn't pull my eyes away from it. I was completely captivated.

And as I sat with my eyes fixated on her, I watched a plane cut across the night sky. The jet trail crossing the southern side of the smoke ring that had me captured. My eyes moved to the jet trail as it flattened and spread. And then, the upper wind currents caught it, blowing it north. And as I continued to watch, the jet trail moved across the face of the moon, briefly hindering the glow, and seeming so close I could pull it down and lay it across my hand.

Compared to the moon, the jet, thousands of feet away from me, seemed so very close as it carried people across the night sky to some unknown destination. I watched it as it flew west, far above me, in just moments, carrying people I will most likely never know. 

I supposed its all a matter of perspective. 

Some things that seem unreachable are often much closer than we think.