Stars sparkled in a black sky at Yosemite National Park last night as we stared up beyond the pine trees. When the lights of plane streaked across the darkness, someone asked me, "Where do you think that plane is headed?"
"I don't know. It's hard to tell what's north or south."
All the friends on our cabin's porch began pointing in opposite directions.
"No, that's north."
"Suzie, look at the moon and think about where it rose at your house the other night," N said.
Thursday night, the moon had risen over the southern wall on my deck, creating palm tree shadows while N and I grilled.
I studied the sky. The moon was in front of me, straight up.
"Okay, then that's south. Which means if the plane is going that way, it's probably headed to San Francisco or San Jose."
"Right!" N said.
"I don't think so."
Everyone muttered as they stared up. And in all that quiet, in the middle of nowhere, there was a certain calm in knowing that we were all turned around together.
So when was the last time you had absolutely no idea where you were?
3 years ago