Past The Mistakes

1 | safe haven

THE EDGE had and has always been my safe place. 

It was a spectacular cliff overseeing the vast, picturesque forest starting from under its foot. The Edge was located in an idyllic location right above the forest; therefore, always promised a brilliant view and a great spot for reflection.

On most nights, the forest underneath was illuminated by the moon. It always looked captivating when I saw just how bright and white it was in contrast to the dark sky behind it.

Who was I if I wasn't just another hopeless romantic for the sky?

There was some sort of comfort that I found in the routine and familiarity that stargazing brought. That familiarity was what helped me feel safe when the whole world turned on us.

When I was younger, my grandfather would sit me on his left knee and we would stare up at the dark sky. He was the one who helped me develop my love for the moon and stars.

Back then, it was hard for me to see the stars; my eyes not being able to focus through the tears. Despite that, I remember wiping them away just so I could focus on something greater than myself. 

My grandfather would tell me this story about the moon that never failed to make me feel happy, understanding the power of promise. He used to say that it was as if the moon had promised the night sky that it would always return. He would tell me the moon would never leave the night and they would always meet again; nobody could tear them apart.

That was simply magical to me; a little story that solidified the power of loyalty and love to me as a young, impressionable little girl.

It was at a young age that I developed a love for silence and observation. I loved how the darkness of the night can envelop the world in silence... never once missing because right at 11, in our small hillside neighbourhood, all the house lights would be closed, dimmed to a minimum. I knew that even my Aunt Marie would be fast asleep by 11:15 with her lights out by 11. There would be no use to try to reach her after then, nor did we try to.

Living by the rural side of the country for my whole life allowed me to realize that the night sky was always crystal clear to me, but outside, there was a world that was condemned to a sky without the stars. In our small town, no star was blanketed by the lies of light pollution, and it was truly a blessing.

Appreciating the sky started with my grandparents and I having dinner beneath the stars. My grandmother would light up lanterns that my grandfather would hang around the trees. In the middle of The Edge, there was an open flat-surfaced clearing where we would set up a large blue picnic blanket with our dinner as we counted the endless stars above. It formed when my grandfather would point out stars and it extended to when I started reading into it more, fascinated by the twinkles I saw in the darkness. 

Now, I knew every constellation in the sky even after the days of those picnics were long gone with only me returning to The Edge every night.

As part of my routine, I was planning on heading right back out with my binoculars to gaze at the stars. I was particularly excited because today was supposed to be a full moon; I had been waiting for this day all month.

I took my blanket and unfurled it in the air before laying it flat on the grass. I smoothed out the edges, noticing that the wind was trying to pick up the blanket and carry it away. To give the blanket more weight I put down my lantern. Just as I did that, the wind died down and I noticed a flock of birds fly well above my head and into the horizon towards the forest.

I eyed my setup one more time and I felt giddy all over again. 

I was so happy I invested in getting a better camera so I could take better pictures. My previous camera failed to capture the beauty of the moon; the light being too much for it to bear which often produced very bright or dark images.