After a long day of... well... mostly lounging around and reading J.K. Rowling (aka Robert Galbraith)'s new book, The Cuckoo's Calling (absolutely a must read--started it on Sunday and I am almost done!), I was about to get ready for bed when my dad announced that we were going to drive up the nearby mountain to get a good look at the moon. Begrudgingly (the unfortunate prevailing mood of the day) I got into the car with the rest of the family to make the 25-minute, windy drive up to the top of Cadillac Mountain.
Though the driving experience rendered me mildly nauseous, the gentle night's breeze immediately began to nudge me out of the day's ennui (a result, I think, of the calm between the consecutive storms of a busy summer and a looming school year). From the top of Cadillac Mountain we could see out in every direction. Together we discussed the reflection of the moonlight on the distant ocean, pointed out distant specks of light, imagining lighthouses and small towns, and then laughingly rolled our eyes at my dad as he pointed out the obvious beauty of the night ("Wow! Look at that moon!" "... we already are, Dad... That's why we came.")
Ultimately though, the experience of looking down at the world--the massive expanse of water, land, and sky in every direction--was both awe-inspiring and incredibly humbling. When looking out at the world from atop a mountain, every petty problem of the day or week seems minuscule in comparison, while the greater themes become increasingly important. In a moment like that, love and family and friendship and the true search for happiness and contentment are able to be seen, quite obviously, as the most important things in life. Though they are often taken for granted in the moment, it is important to be reminded of the vastness of the earth and the little part we each play on it, made memorable only by the joy and love we encompass.