Beneath the Blue Ridge Stars
There's no better way to embrace a summer night in Blue Ridge than beneath the stars. Take yourself there through this poem written by a local expert of the night skies.
On an evening walk in our big city park my son asked me who took the Stars. I looked up at the sky with a wondering eye, and saw nothing, not even Mars. Childhood memories flowed back like a crisp mountain stream, of a place with no glaring streetlights. A charming small cabin tucked into the woods, where stars made adventurous nights.
Strolling a trail only lit by the moon, amazed at how well I can see. Fireflies everywhere glowing and blinking as if they are dancing for me! We all come together near the warm crackling fire, with colorful flames all a glow. Grandpa tells stories, then points to the woods. Oh my, it’s the silhouette of a doe.
Cicadas are singing as the fire burns down, but the campfire is not yet complete. Just grab a long stick and two marshmallows now, for a sweet, sticky, fun mountain treat! Those cherished good times flashed by very quickly. As I knelt with my curious son. I know just the place where we can all go, and have lots of starry skies fun.
The twinkling Milky Way will shine through the night, we’ll catch fireflies and put them in jars. Then someday you’ll tell the story of Beneath the Blue Ridge Stars.
