Lights Out Lowry

I took Rene on a walk in the neighborhood tonight after a friend left from having dinner and dessert at my condo. There was a little wind, chilly enough to feel refreshing, but not so chilly that I didn't seek out the air conditioner when I retreated back to the condo, which does capture the Eastern warm sun all morning and in turn warms up the condo pretty nicely. The night sky was pretty clear, the stars appeared pronounced and the moon became quickly bright after a cloud passed over it. But, there was one pesky thing that got in the way of my enjoying the night sky here on the Eastern Slope and that was all the lighting.

I love living in Lowry because there is great lighting, so much better than in the old school neighborhoods of Wash Park or Bonnie Brae. I feel very safe walking to and fro my building and that, as a single gal, is a good thing. But, I do often yearn for "my night sky." I have given the night sky such personal possessiveness because I have had profound realizations under the night sky, so naturally it has become mine. My first memory of connecting with the sky was my first time staying at Robin's Nest, a cabin in Estes Park's YMCA of the Rockies compound. It was a trip taken the summer after Mike's death, and the cabin was situated where I could see Rocky Mountain National Park and also toward the north east. I remember sitting on the porch, Ches and Stan milling about, with few lights around the area of the various cabins. The night sky was so pronounced, so vibrant, and I recall feeling connected to everyone on any side of the sky. The phrase, "We are all one under the sky" came to me then, leading me to create one of my favorite collages many years later.

Fast forward to my little "country house" where there was virtually no outside lighting at night, and the sky blossomed then. On warm nights I would brave the mosquitos, turn off the porch lights, and sit on the steps admiring the view. Galaxies floated overhead as did every astronomical delight. I learned about venus and other planets, and actually caught a shooting star once. During those gaze filled moments, my heart slowed down, thoughts of "what if" for the future calmed themselves, and I really felt connected to what being "one with the moment" felt like.

Lowry has some similar attributes to the cabin and the country house; thanks to conscious developers, Lowry isn't full of sky rises that block the view but rather low lying buildings that still allow the view. And I saw the view tonight, only it was a tad dull from all the streetlights that do indeed give me a sense of safety. So, I propose to Lowry Community Association one night this summer called "Lights Out Lowry" where, whoever can, turn their lights off after 9pm for an hour or two so the residents of the area can really enjoy the night sky. Though we live on the Eastern Slope, our night sky is accessible to us all the same; and if we turned a few lights out we might look upon the sky and feel as connected to our counterparts over the mountain as I have felt from the other side.

Lights out, Lowry. Good night, and sleep soundly knowing the blanket that covers us all is pillow-like and star filled.