The last-quarter moon’s illumination is diminishing sliver by sliver as we head into Halloween weekend. Second-brightest in the sky is Venus, and early next week, Mercury will be visible just below the crescent moon.
I’m on a 36-hour train ride along the West Coast, from Seattle to Los Angeles. The long, exhausting timeline I was in for didn’t fully sink in until Hour 16 or so. But we’re entering the last leg of our trip, and I’m enjoying this spacious, scenic, swaying way of traveling, in a way that truly conveys — visually, physically — the distance between my place of departure and my destination. We’ve wound through farmland and forests and small towns and cities, and now we’re so close to the coastline that the mist lifting off the ocean is drifting up to meet the train’s windows. Surfers are skating along the waves just below us as the sun sets behind us. I’m headed to the desert to meet up with friends and see Joshua Trees and celebrate the thinning of the veil. Here’s what I’m looking at and listening to on my trip.
◑ KXVO “Pumpkin Dance.” A Halloween classic.
◑ See Photos of Autumn from Around the World.
◑ All Hail West Texas by The Mountain Goats.
◑ “Every Feeling” by Ezra Furman.
◑ Phoebe Bridgers covers “That Funny Feeling” by Bo Burnham.
◑ KJHK 90.7 FM — The Sound Alternative. This is the radio station where Becky and I were both DJs, and I enjoy returning to it to see what’s in rotation a decade later.
◑ My 90s TV. Turn on this television simulator for a hit of nostalgia.
◑ The Deep Sea. Scroll to the depths of the ocean.
Spotlight: Becky Sullivan
Becky Sullivan is a reporter for NPR. She grew up in Kansas City and lives in Washington, D.C. I met Becky through KU’s student-run radio station, at a time when I didn’t have many women friends and sorely needed them. We’ve been buddies ever since, and even though we live several time zones apart, we’ve stayed in touch and see each other every Halloween, with the rest of our rowdy college cohort.
Hi. You’re walking your dog!
I know. He loves to walk so much. You get out his harness, and then you get out his leash, and he’s just like, “Holy shit, yes!” He’s so pumped. He’s such a good boy. He just sleeps all day, but it’s very rewarding to be like, “OK, let’s go do something!” And he’s like, “Hell, yeah!” Pretty great.
And are you still working at home? Do you get to work beside him for most of the day?
I do, yeah! So, working at home, they say, until mid-January, which I think sounds right to me. It’s the first time they’ve announced a coming-back-to-work day that seems possible. At first they were like, “You’ll come back on the day after the 4th of July.” Ha, ha. And then they moved it to mid-September, which was absurd. And then it was mid-October, and then it was mid-November, and finally they were just like, “OK, we’re just going to get through the holidays, we’ll come back in January.”
Nice. Do you have to do any more traveling this year?
They’ve asked me if I would be willing to go to Afghanistan, but I don’t know if that will really happen. I would be very interested in doing that, but if not, it’ll also be nice to finally sit on my butt in one place for a couple months.
Yeah, you’ve been going a lot of places, right?
Yeah. I got back a week ago to my apartment after being gone for four months. Which was amazing, and — I don’t know, how often do you see your parents?
Once a year, if that.
Yeah, that’s sort of where I was. Twice a year, maybe? Maximum, three weeks a year — a week’s vacation in the summer, and a week at the holidays, and then maybe a few random weekends here and there. So, I got to see them for three months straight, so that’s basically, you know, four or five years’ worth of parent time in a single year. So I feel like I’m beating the clock, in a sense, you know? They’re not going to be around forever, so getting to do that much quality time with them in one year is pretty precious.
Very precious. Only now, and increasingly as I age, am I regretting the “I’m going to move far away from all the people I love!” thing, you know?
Yeah, when I lived in LA, I feel like it was a really good lesson in that. I missed seeing them and the rest of my family, so it’s nice.
But it’s nice to be in D.C., it’s good to be back. I saw my sister last night, and her kids, and that was awesome. My 6-year-old niece was like, “Why are you here all of a sudden?” I think she was like, “You didn’t come over for four months, and now you’ve been back a bunch, what the heck?” And I was just like, “Well, I’m here because I love you, and I like seeing you!”
She’s like, “Yeah, yeah, whatever.”
Pretty much. She was like, “OK!”
That sounds like a nice birthday. I’ve been trying to do these interviews aligned with people’s birthdays, not because I think that’s necessarily their favorite season, but it probably means something to them. So, I’m wondering how you feel about fall. Is it a happy thing that it’s here? What does it look like for you right now?
Oh, it’s so funny that you said that. Does everyone not love the season that they were born in? Because I do.
I mean, me too. It’s my favorite!
I know, me too! It’s the best. It’s the very best.
I wonder. Because I started these in summer, and everyone born in summer loves it. And so far the fall people love it, but some speak about it a little trepidatiously.
I love it unconditionally. I grew up absolutely convinced that I had the best birthday. I guess I’ve lived in places where fall is incredible. Like, in Kansas City, the summers are really hot, and often August is full of 100-degree days, and September, you get a little hint of it getting nice, but then there’s always a late fall heatwave, and it’s hot. I was just in Kansas City for the last couple weeks of September and the first week of October, and it was muggy when I left, highs in the 80s. It was going to be 89 degrees the day after I left. And by the time it’s October and there are still days like that, no thanks. Even the biggest summer fans have to be sick of it by then. And by the time my birthday arrives, usually all of that is done done. And I don’t know if it’s just good luck, but my birthday is pretty much universally an incredibly beautiful fall day. It’s always crisp and clear blue skies and 70 degrees and sunny and gorgeous. And this year, it didn’t work out, but the last few years, I’ve taken my birthday off and I’ve gone on a big long bike ride, and just marinated in it, and it always feels so incredible.
I just have all these great memories of fall, like school starting and feeling like the start of something new. And by October, you’re hitting your stride, feelin’ good.
In D.C., the summer is totally disgusting. It’s really fun, in a sense, because everybody comes out to hang, and the parks are all full. But it’s so muggy and so hot and so intense. You’re outside for 10 seconds and you’re sweating, even if you just took a shower. Fall has a special spot for me. It’s so beautiful, and relief from the humidity, and relief from the heat. It feels so good. And now that I have a dog, I’m just outside all the time, and it’s the most pleasant time to be outside.
Did you already make a point of getting outside every day, or has having a dog changed the way that you prioritize that or engage with the world?
The dog changed it because of the pandemic. Pre-pandemic, I definitely was outside every day. Biking was my way of getting around town when I was working in the office Monday through Friday. Every day, I would commute to work that way without fail, and every weekend, unless I literally didn’t leave the house, I was biking somewhere. And then the pandemic hit, and I basically didn’t leave my studio apartment for a good two months at the start, except to go to the grocery store. And that was an incredibly miserable time in my life, when I just felt really lonely, and really in dire need of human contact. It was extremely stressful and bad. So then, when it felt safe to go outside again, I was doing that a little bit. But the dog has really made a difference, because I’m working at home, and I’m not commuting to work, and so that daily bike ride has been out of my life since March 2020.
I remember a month or two after I got him, my friend was asking me how much of a time commitment it was. And I was like, “Yeah, in the morning I try to hang out with him for an hour. I try to take him on a 30- or 45-minute walk, and then a lunchtime stroll. And after work, I walk him for 30 minutes, or, if I have time, up to an hour.” And my friend was just like, “Geez, that’s a ton of time.” But then I was thinking, my days don’t feel tighter. What I am replacing with all that outdoor time is just sitting in bed on my phone, or just watching TV. What a net positive in every sense, you know?
Yeah, and just to see the happiness of another creature who you’re so connected with.
It’s awesome. He’s so much fun. He’s so into me. I grew up with golden retrievers, and they love everyone, which is really fun and really great. But you don’t come away from owning a golden retriever feeling super-special, you know? You definitely feel loved, but you don’t feel special, I think. I don’t know. I feel like a stranger could’ve walked away with Jack, my parents’ last golden retriever. If you knew him really well, you could maybe detect some signs of sadness about it. But not really. He’d just be like, “This is great! I love you people!” Whereas, I have not known a dog who is just a one-person dog. And my dog is. He’s so attuned to everything I’m doing. He just doesn’t care about other people. He’s like, “What is Mom doing?” So it’s been so fun to watch him get more and more comfortable over the last eight months. Apparently, a phenomenon with rescue dogs is that they take a few months, or even longer, to open up and show you their full personality. So, I’ve had him for eight or nine months. And the amount that he’s changed, and entirely for the positive, in that time has been awesome. He loves me. He trusts me. He’s so happy to see me if I go and come back. He’s a good egg. It’s so fun.
I can’t wait to meet him.
I know, I can’t wait for you to meet him too. He’s a little shy with strangers, so be ready for that, but he warms up to you. He warms up pretty quick, which then feels really good.
So, I typically ask about fall rituals or trips or routines that people have that help them feel grounded in the season. And for us, we share one! We’ve got Halloween coming up. So it feels a little silly to ask, “What does that mean to you?” But are there others? Or can you talk a bit about our Halloween tradition as an anchor of fall?
Yeah! I’ve got a few things I’m thinking about. I think fall is basically like a homecoming for me. The last few years, I’m always really busy in the summer, and traveling to go do stuff, this and that and the other thing. And the last two summers during the pandemic, I’ve done these big road trips. And both times, I’ve come back in mid-October, and it feels amazing to come back and be in my own space and get back to my routine. It sounds so square to be like, “I love just being at work for a week.” But I did! I really did like coming into the apartment and sleeping in my bed for the first time in four months. And just taking a minute to breathe and settle down from all the fun and excitement of the summer. I’m always tired afterward, and in need of some restoration. And that’s what the fall is for me, the comfort of settling back into place.
And I think Halloween is definitely that. I’m returning to this group of people who are such a strong tie to where I came from. And it’s so rewarding to come back to you guys and to see you again and to see how you’ve been doing and get to form these new experiences with you. But doing that while steeped in and informed by all of the history that we have together, and being grounded by that, the gravity of that. Which I love. It just feels like home. That’s sort of what I think about when I think about fall. It’s so comforting.
I really agree with what you said about home being people, in a way. And both of us are sort of uprooted from the place where we grew up. So then, home is a little bit where we made it, and in other people. But in that sense, I feel like my “home” is dispersed all around the country, you know?
Definitely.
Do I even have one? I feel a little unmoored. So, Halloween is just so centering. Even if it’s wild, it’s somehow still centering.
I totally, completely, 100 percent agree. Having lived all over the country, we have people in all different places that mean something to us. We all started in one place, and then we all spread all over the country and lived all these separate lives. To keep coming together and having this touchpoint each year is just so satisfying.
Yeah, it is. For me, “family” has expanded to fit these different kinds of relationships, given that I’m not going to have a conventional family structure in my life. And so, in that sense, I’m like, “OK, this is my family, and they know who I am now, and they know who I was 13, 14 years ago now.” And that’s amazing, because I’m not the same. I don’t feel like the same person. But I do think there’s a thread throughout that these friends can pick up on.
Yeah, I agree. There’s such satisfaction in that longevity and each person changing individually, but changing in ways that work with each other and that make it rewarding to come back to each other. You hear people talk about marriage in that way, right? That both people are going to change, and the challenge of it is changing in a way that complements each other, that works together. I don’t have that kind of long-term relationship in my life. But not a lot of groups of friends make it for this long. And the fact that we’re still working together and through marriages and babies and life changes, I don’t doubt that we’ll keep figuring out ways to keep it going.
What about visual, sensory experiences of fall? Are there things right now that you’re seeing around or eating?
I mean, pumpkin spice lattes, nonstop! Just kidding. I’ve never had a pumpkin spice latte.
Oh, really?
I don’t like coffee. I guess maybe the idea of the pumpkin spice is that it doesn’t taste like coffee anymore.
For me, the visual is the changing leaves and a clear blue sky. “Crisp” is the word that I always think of. The bright orange of the maples, the bright red of the maples. It was kind of shaping up to be a lame leaf year in Kansas City. I wonder how it’s doing now. I don’t know exactly how this works, and maybe you do. But for ideal fall colors, it needs to be not too dry of a summer, but then it needs to have dried out in the final weeks leading up to the leaf-changing time. You should check me before you publish that. But I think, basically, if there’s a late storm, then it ruins the leaves. Or, if there’s too much late humidity, it makes them all brown instead of colorful. I might have some details in there mixed up.
That would also make a lot of sense for why the fall leaves in Seattle are nothing like Kansas, and I’m sure nothing like the Northeast.
Yeah. I was in Massachusetts last week, and they had only just started, it wasn’t yet the peak, but it was already just marvelous. And D.C. is not going to be anything like that. D.C.’s all still green, and it’ll change eventually. But it’s usually more brown than vivid colors.
Kansas City spoils you. I have this photo of when we were in Kansas City for Halloween a few years ago; there was one morning when everybody was sleeping in, and I walked to get Starbucks or something, and I just kept stopping every hundred feet down the street to take a picture of some new tree. They were all incredible, neon orange and vivid gold and bright red.
Anyway, other sensory things: This is very basic and American, but football. Everything with a football game. I did marching band in high school growing up, so I would go to every single football game of my high school. And then I did it in college, because I was dating a guy who hung out with all these other guys, and they got me really into football as a sport. And then, talking about homecoming again — it’s been so fun, being away from Kansas City, to tune in to watch the Kansas City team. I’m terrible at remembering all of the players, and I certainly don’t know all the ins and outs of what’s happening on the field, but it just feels so good to be aligned with Kansas City and my hometown.
And to have other people excited for that.
Yeah. I remember a run in the fall in D.C. a few years ago, and I happened to be running by one of the little universities in D.C. that has a football team, during a football game. The marching band was playing, and the crowd was cheering, and you could hear the whistles, and I just stopped. I couldn’t even see anything. Didn’t matter. I was just outside the stadium on the street next to it. But it was just so fall, and so beautiful, and so wonderful. I was just like, “I love this.”
I think my quintessential fall album is All Hail West Texas by The Mountain Goats. I don’t know that it even says anything about fall. I guess there’s a song about a high school football player. Maybe there are some other hints of fall. But I feel like it just sounds like fall. The sound of it is the auditory equivalent of the blue sky and the crisp air. It just transports me.
Do you change what music you listen to seasonally, or is it more that you happen upon an album at a certain time in life and then it comes to represent that time?
I think the latter, for sure. I’m not sure that other people necessarily agree with me when I think that albums correspond with times of the year, but All Hail West Texas does for sure. I picked it up my senior year of college. I was coming off a breakup with my college boyfriend, who I’d been dating for three years. I had gone to New York City for this summer internship, and had decided while I was there that I didn’t see how our futures were going to be able to work together. I just couldn’t see anything but divergence. So I broke it off and I came back to Lawrence, and it was so weird to come back home. I had dated him basically the entire time I was in college. I didn’t really know how to be single in college. It was a very new and strange experience. And I decided to teach myself guitar, and for some reason, I landed on this album as a way of doing so. It’s just very simple, and the guitar playing is very easy. It’s a great teaching device. And then I just fell completely, totally in love with it. I bought the CD for my car, and I would never stop it. I would always just get in my car and turn it on and pick up listening to it wherever I’d left off, and just let it loop forever. For months.
I can’t hear The Mountain Goats without instantly thinking of you.
Yeah, I think anybody who rode in my car during that era probably thinks that. It was the perfect album for that moment. There are definitely some troubled relationships described in the songs, and then the aesthetics of it, the simplicity of it — it’s an unshakable link in my mind.
Have you been listening to any particular albums lately?
There’s a few that I’m really vibing with right now. Let me pull them up. You can listen to them and tell me what you think, if you want.
Yeah, I’d love to. I mean, last time someone asked this of you when I was there, you suggested Ezra Furman, and I just …
So, so amazing.
How did I even live before knowing about this person?
I feel that way too. I did a lot of driving this last month. I had a drive from Colorado to Kansas City, and then from Kansas City to Ohio, and then Ohio to Massachusetts, and then Massachusetts to D.C. And it always feels good to come back to Ezra. What a talent. Those songs. I could sing some of the songs until I am blue in the face. That was one of the last concerts I saw before the pandemic.
Joe and I went too — it must’ve been the same tour!
I know! And I was so glad that you guys were able to go. Ezra’s just life-affirming. Like, “Shit’s hard and complicated, and it’s got its ups and downs, but you know what? Bring joy and energy to it anyway.”
Yeah, beautifully said.
The three that I’m most into right now are this song called “Astral Plane” by Valerie June; a song called “Beautiful Strangers” by Kevin Morby, who’s from Kansas City, I think; and then this amazing little country song called “He’s Fine” by The Secret Sisters. I barely know anything about any of these people. They were just songs that captured me the moment that I heard them. I’ve probably listened to “Astral Plane,” especially, hundreds of times already this year.
I love fixating.
I fixate big-time on songs. Like, you know what? Fuck it. I don’t want to hear anything else. That’s all I want to hear. Why am I going to like pretend to, like, eat the broccoli? Gimme that song.
I remember when I was a kid, I’d somehow bought the societal Kool-Aid that — I don’t know. I don’t understand why I had this impression, but I just thought that I only liked music that men sang. All of my favorite bands were male-fronted alternative rock and indie rock. Like, that’s fucking stupid. What was I thinking? And I wasn’t thinking, is the answer. And the last few years have been such an abundance of incredible music by incredible women, like Big Thief, Phoebe Bridgers, Lucy Dacus, Waxahatchee. All of them have rocked me. And anyway, I’m going to keep it up.
So, I actually don’t know this about you, which is surprising after all this time. But do you have houseplants or any type of relationship with growing things?
I do have houseplants. I was out of town for the first couple of months of 2020. I just traveled a ton for work and for fun, and was basically out of town all of February and most of March. By the time I finally got back to my apartment in late March, the pandemic was in full swing, and people were in isolation. And I was like, “Oh, shit. I’m never leaving this apartment again.” And I looked around, and I was like, “This is a little sad.” I had a few succulents, which I love, but I was like, “OK, I’m going to spruce this up a bit,” so to speak. So I invested in some plants that are now so healthy. And it’s such a satisfying and rewarding thing with houseplants, because you take care of them, and then they just get bigger and better and healthier, and they don’t stop. And I find it so satisfying to be like, “Oh, I got it when it was that big, and look!” and “I remember when that stem sprouted!” I have a pothos, and it’s basically a single strand that is like 3 or 4 feet long, and you can tell that a friend gave it to me as a cutting. I love that it started with her plant and that you can see that. With a pothos, the more you water it, the longer the stem grows in between leaves. It could be the other way around. But you can definitely tell where I was home, and where I had somebody staying at my apartment watching it for me. Because there’ll be, like, 2 inches between leaves for a little stretch of it. And then it’s down to 1 inch between leaves for a long stretch. And then I just got home from being away for four months, and I had a subletter who took care of my plants and kept them alive, and it’s back to 2 inches between the leaves. And I’m like, “Oh, that’s when the subletter was living here!” Which I find so hilarious.
Wow, it’s so obvious to me, as you say it like that. Of course, I know that this is how it works. But I don’t think I’ve really looked at my plants that way.
I know! It’s the easiest one, because it hangs straight down on my bookshelf, so it’s just very easy to look at and notice. I don’t think I would be able to tell that on some of my other plants, but that one, it’s extremely obvious, and it’s just so funny.
I’ve found myself wishing that I knew more about what the plants are in D.C. I’ve just done a bad job of learning what the native plants are, and what I’m looking at when I go outside. I don’t really have any idea, whereas I totally did when I was at home. When I was a kid, I knew which tree in the yard was the cottonwood, and I knew which one was the dogwood, and I knew which ones were the maples and the cherry tree. And I wish that I knew that here. So, it’s been fun to have the houseplants, at least. It’s been so rewarding to take care of them, to learn to be better at it. To see them flourish.
I miss that type of home-plant recognition also, and I think I just forget that it took, you know, several decades to build up the Kansas plant recognition. It just takes so much time to get to know your surroundings. More than I think people account for.
I know. I need to do better. It’ll be an area of focus in the years to come. That’s what they say about the NBA referees. This is a dumb sports thing, but, sometimes, between seasons, they’ll decide to change rules when something hasn’t worked, but if they don’t want to do something as extreme as changing a rule, they’ll announce an “area of focus,” which is always a phrase I found so funny. And so they’re going to be like, “OK, well, an area of focus this year is we’re going to call more charges,” or whatever. And then they do. So, I think of that.
What would you say your area of focus is right now?
Oh, I don’t know. I just got back, so it’s hard to say. I think my area of focus is just getting back into my routine. That’s the real answer. There is an answer, and that’s the answer. Setting a healthy routine, like getting back into the job, being good at the job. I just started a new job in July, and it’s been very interrupted by time off. I had to take a furlough, and I took time off to drive everywhere, and I had to take a bunch of time away to do union negotiations, because we’re unionized, and it was time to negotiate a new contract. So I feel like I’ve barely worked a week in a row since then. So, coming home, I just want to settle in, and do good at the job, and kick butt. I get great satisfaction out of that, because I’m, I don’t know, a worker bee. And I like being home and being reminded of all the things that I find rewarding and feel really good for me, like trying new recipes, cooking and eating healthy, seeing friends, making sure I’m getting the right amount of exercise. And not just walking the dog, but running and yoga and biking. Just doing all of those things that I love doing, but find it hard to build a routine when I’m traveling. So that’s what I’ve been thinking a lot about in this past week, is trying to be really intentional about all of those things. Sitting down at my desk every morning and trying to work hard, and not just work hard for the sake of working hard, but to think about everything that I’m doing, and try to be the best version of myself throughout the day, and try to do the best version of the work that I can be doing.
Yeah, like, actually being present for it.
Exactly. Like, engaging with my colleagues, and treating people the way that I want to treat people, in ways that I feel good about. And treating myself in ways that I feel good about. Eating right, and getting the exercise that I need that’s going to make me feel good. And reading and doing all of that. I can slip out of those habits, and anytime that I’m really intentional about getting myself back on track, it always feels good. I never regret it. The older I’ve gotten, the more powerful that has been as a motivation. Being like, “You know what? You’ve literally never regretted this in 1,000 runs, or 500 times of doing yoga, or 200 books that you’ve read in your life. You’ve never regretted it.” And I’m always like, “Oh, yeah, you’re right.”
Is that how you kickstart the process again when you haven’t been in it? Because I’m not in it right now, and I’m trying to be. I find it so much easier to be in the process than to want to be in the process. And I have trouble pushing myself sometimes to just do it.
Yeah, definitely. I’m somebody who will take any excuse to not do a thing. I think I’m secretly lazy, right? Like, at my heart, I’m a bum. So I always have to be like, “Hey, remember how you like not being a bum?” And I’m like, “Oh, right.” So I have to do all these dumb mental games to make it easy for myself. I have to get up early and be like, “See, look, I’m up early with nothing else to do. I might as well go for a run!” It helps to give myself sort of a rule. So I’m like, “OK, well, on any given day, I’m either going to go for a run or do yoga or go for a bike ride.” It doesn’t matter which one. I just have to do one of them.
That’s nice.
Or, making it easy for myself. I would never sign up for a gym membership, because I know that I’ll give myself too many excuses, but with a run, all I have to do is put on the right clothes and the shoes and do it. And with yoga, all I have to do is move the coffee table out of the way and put the yoga mat down. And then biking is even easier. All I have to do is want to go somewhere.
It’s like magic.
They’re just the absolute best things that humans have ever invented, I’m pretty sure. So, making it easy for myself, that’s key. Reminding myself of how good it feels, that’s key. And then, taking time to be like, “Didn’t that feel good?” Like, just acknowledge it afterward, and be like, “It did!” Or, while I’m on the bike ride or while I’m on the run, I’m like, “This is great.” Just saying it and reminding myself and being like, “Oh, yeah! I do really like this.”
Yeah, and again, being really present for what you’re doing and not just doing it because, well, that’s part of life and you have to, you know?
Exactly. Doing it for the thing’s own sake. I do it because I like it. I like the way it feels, and I like the way I feel afterward, both physically, and about myself. And those are all good things.
Do you think you’re going to go peek at the full moon tonight? Can you see it out your window?
I cannot see it out my window, because it’s to the east right now, I think, and I face west. But last night, I was walking the dog a little late, and this family was getting out of a car and walking to their apartment. And the little kid, a 3- or 4-year-old, was like, “Mama! Look behind you!” And she spins around and she was like, “What is it?!” And he was like, “The moon!” And everyone who was on the street looked up at it and was like, “Damn, he’s right. That is a good moon. That is a big, bright moon right now. And it is right there, right behind her, just like he said.” And it was so pure. I loved it. So, I’ve noticed the moon! I am totally going to go out again tonight, because I’ve got to walk the dog before I go to bed, and I will totally look up.
It’s funny, being back in the city, because it just doesn’t matter that much here. It just doesn’t make a difference on life. But I spent two months in rural Colorado this summer, and I was very attuned to the moon’s schedule, because it totally makes a difference when you’re out, even just walking the dog at night, when there’s no urban lights that affect it. You can see all of the stars on a good night, on a new moon night. You can see the Milky Way, and it’s incredible and mind-blowing. I’ve seen it a hundred times, and every time, I still stop, and I’m like, “Wow.” And then the full moon comes, and you’re like, “Whatever, full moon.” But it’s nice in its own way. You can be camping with no light, and you can wake up and see your way around in the middle of the night, and see the scenery, in a way, in the middle of the night, and that’s its own form of incredible. So it’s funny, now that you’ve asked me about this, I’m thinking about it for the first time, and last night was the first time I really noticed that it was almost a full moon, because of that little kid.
Kids know what’s up. Yeah, I’m always thinking about it and looking at it from a sense of cycles and wonder, but you’re so right that outside of these cities, it has a utility, you know? Like, we followed the cycles historically for a reason, right? And it’s easy to forget that with all of this artificial light around.
Totally. I’m back in D.C., and I spent all summer just looking at the stars. My parents just got a puppy earlier this year, and he needed many walks so that he wouldn’t pee in the house. So we’d be out walking the dogs at 9 or 10, and looking at the stars. I’m terrible at seeing constellations, it’s all sort of lost on me. I’ve been with friends trying to point them out, who are like, “Do you see that big star right there above that tree?” And I’m like, “There are 500 stars above that tree, which one are you talking about?” So, I can see the Big Dipper and Orion, and that’s kind of it. But this summer, I got good, or reasonably good, at identifying the planets and keeping track of where they are. So it was fun to be back in D.C., but totally different, because pretty much all you can see are Venus and Jupiter. You don’t really see that many stars here, and it’s just so different from Colorado, where, once it was really dark, you’d get a million stars all across the whole sky. It was a little like culture shock for the first couple of days, to leave a super-rural part of the country, a very remote part of the country, and come back. Very different in so many ways.
Yeah. My parents as, you know, live in Wyoming now, and whenever I visit them, I’m struck by how quiet and spacious it is, and by all the stars. And then, when there’s a storm, you’re not just seeing a single bolt of lightning, you’re seeing a whole horizon just full of lightning, all around you, and it’s amazing.
Amazing. That’s so cool. I love it. I see the appeal.