Few people mention star gazing these days. Most of us live in urban areas where the ambient light robs us of an otherwise magical moment pondering the omniscient patterns that change with the Earth’s rotation. This story turns our gaze toward the meaning of those lights of incomprehensible distance. The tendency toward vertigo is delivered with an intriguing line: “on a clear night, the sky seemed so vast and so close overhead it was disorienting, as if you could fall up.” The physics of sound and light are unlike everyday life that “tumbled along ... and traveled only one path, and petered out.” This story has a wonderful shape that converges the mysteries and realities of physics and the feeling of loss. Read it here in Hunger Mountain.