As we hiked through the sand dunes at the Pinery Provincial Park this past weekend, my mother-in-law continually reminded me to look down, to watch where I was stepping, to be cautious of branches and wary of poison ivy. I found it hard to follow her instructions, as my eyes were continually pulled upwards, towards the sky and its multitudes of shades of blue and the silhouettes of the clouds among the blinding sun.
My gaze remained skyward throughout the camping trip: I stared at the purple horizon and the golden sun as it rose in the morning, at the wisps of quickly-moving clouds in the afternoon, and at the thousands of stars that pierced the pitch-black sky at night. I did not worry myself with poison ivy, or with the mosquitos that nibbled at my ankles. Instead, I looked up and reflected upon my place in the world, upon my small existence in a large cosmos. And I was thankful.