I’ve never been one to stare at the stars. The ocean. The Mountains. Sunrises. Sunsets. I’m all about them. I gulp them in with my eyes. Stars. Nighttime. Not so much. I don’t know what I’m looking at. It’s like trying to read a book in a different language. Or with glasses that don’t work right. It makes me restless. And frustrated. And pretty soon I close my eyes. It’s nighttime. Why not sleep and let the stars take care of themselves? But here on the eastern edge of Block Island, I look up at the stars. The new moon has set. It’s only stars up there. And the sound of waves on Pebbly Beach. I am tucked in close to his body on the aluminum chaise lounge. It isn’t as though I can read the stars any better. But tonight their indecipherability is a comfort. Life has so many indecipherable moments and relationships and problems. They weigh us down. But not tonight. Tonight they drift up and get lost in the unreadable stories up there. Down here, we rest weightless and insignificant in each other’s arms. It is all that matters.