Nighttime on the Merced
Summer ended slowly in Yosemite Valley this year. Early October found us along the shores of the Merced, grateful for the cool evening brought and basking in the silver and gold of a full moon. The full-throated rush of the springtime Merced had faded to a hoarse whisper as it rattled past grasses and rocks on its way seaward.
Poking around Yosemite at night reminds me of viewing the stars in my backyard as a kid—and realizing that the night sky reveals our connection to the rest of the universe. In fact, the more I see the night sky, the more I think that the blue of daytime is somehow a veil, a falsehood, that obscures that connection.