Whilst walking in the Pyrenees earlier this month I arrived at a pleasant
spot in a secluded valley where I decided to camp for the night. The day had
been scorchingly hot with the sun beating down out of a clear azure sky.
Having prepared myself a meal I then decided to dispense with my tent for
the night and spread a groundsheet out upon which I laid my sleeping bag.
In the distance I could hear shepherds working in the early evening sunlight
with their sheep's bells clanging. Eventually the shepherds left but the
sheep bells persisted. As the sun sank lower and buried itsself below the
horizon I was aware of miriads of sounds, some identifiable, others not.
Insects buzzed and flitted about as the first of the stars started to shine
through and I crawled into my sleeping bag.
The dying rays of the sun shone on a distant mountain summit but that soon
succumbed to the darkness.
Soon I lost count of the stars I could see as the wisps of the Milky Way
spread across the sky. Almost as soon as it was dark I was aware of the
total silence, insects, sheep bells, birds silenced as if at the flick of a
switch.
Waking occasionally I was aware of the movement of the stars across the
heavens and noticed how many more I could see in the absence of light
pollution.
It really was a marvellous experience; one which I would commend to anyone.
They say such experiences either send you mad or turn you into a poet.