Enchantment

A wintery fragment of a mid-December evening

The sky was very dark, as I was heading towards my car at the outskirts of the village in that mid-December evening. I was going back home after a dinner at my parents' house.

Taking the alley running along the church, lost in my head, I looked up and I immediately spotted Orion. Funny how, just two days before, I knew nothing about the stars and spotting a constellation was, to me, something unthinkable. But thanks to the right guide¹, I had persuaded myself to purchase a compass and sit on my balcony at night during New Moon. Afterwards, I had realized it was more metaphorical than expected, as I had come to the consideration that I had, much indeed, lost my inner compass and so I needed a new one.

The air was cold and my cheeks were reddening, I was sure. Orion was still there, leaning for a moment against the church wall, I lost myself in space. From the blueish twinkle of Rigel to the faint red of Betelgeuse, I gazed at the stars in awe. After some time, I realised that the Christmas carols I was hearing were real and not just in my head. Someone was rehearsing in the church.

Enchantment.

That was the first word that came to mind. It was just me and the stars and distant Christmas music, in that very moment, and nothing else. Grief was far away and the future was no longer that scary, in thay very moment, and nothing else. The tip of my nose freezing cold, peace, a sense of accomplishment. I was not alone, the stars were there, I was there. Forgetting for a moment the bereavement I was holding close to my chest since months for something that never really was.

I stood there some more, then I finally headed towards my car not before taking a look at beautiful Sirius in the sky, popping up right behind a tree at the end of the alley.

1. Such guide is the Winter Stargazing Adventure Pack by Agnes of wearestardust.uk (not an affiliate, I just love it very much!).