Stars, Water, and Geology

As I sit at the school’s windowsill, I see the mountains, with trees of many colors. Evergreens and deciduous trees. The latter have leaves of red and orange yellow and green. There is bare rock exposed, presumably where a quarry is (or was) in operation. I can see the rock is of different patterns and colors as well. Reds and grays mostly. But by the standards of most rocks, with the exceptions of their flashier cousins gems and minerals, this is a rainbow. There are large fluffy clouds moving very quickly across a bright blue sky. The land is sloping down towards the creek. And what a creek it is. While not very big, it holds just as much wonder in its waters as any ocean. Water is so unusual when you think about it. It’s odorless, tasteless, and we all depend upon it to survive. Most of the human body is made up of water, 80-90%, in fact. Our planet, as well, is mostly water. Without water on our planet, life as we know it would not exist. I think about all these things as I watch the creek. It’s almost perfectly clear, with small bubbles, and it contorts and twists like a dancer as it flows over the rocks. It mystifies me at how clear it is, but at the same time, it holds so much life. We all came from this. As tiny single celled-lifeforms. But even then, we still wouldn’t exist if not for the universe itself. Some nights when stars abound, I find myself gazing up into the inky blackness dotted with tiny lights of twinkling stars and our bright neighbors, the planets, as well as well as our own silver moon, and it makes me realize how small we are in comparison to everything. We live in such a vast universe. How big is it really? Does it end? Does it continue onwards infinitely? And the biggest, arguably most important question of all: Are we alone?