Midnight Blue

I was looking out my window one night and then I saw It.
It was HUGE! One of the most amazing spectacular images I've seen.
It stretched as far as the one's eye could reach, nay farther.
Its expanse went from horizon to horizon, and it did not stop there.
It continued past the treasured mountains of my homeland, over the oceans of adventure, leaving Infinity in Its wake.
And It was not alone. There were in Its midst small Things--tiny but eternal in their own minuteness. The Things were farther than the most distant thought. The Things, indeed, were the epitome of Foreign. Yet they were not, perhaps, so far nor so alien; I would not be lying to say they teased my eyes and for a brief moment, I considered extending my hand up to them.
But It had an Object as a guest of honor in Its accumulation of Things. This Object was closer than its fellow Things. It was warming and welcoming, being much nearer and thus more familiar than the other Things in It. And yet, in the Object's own closeness, it was that much more strange, though far from awkward. Merely queer by its whole attitude toward me, the Viewer.
And I thought, for a breath, that the sky in the middle of the night was quite Beautiful.

Are not things so much more beautiful and precious when we remove the familiarity and every-day view of the world?