The first time I saw the stars, really saw them, was at Russian River in Sonoma County. They started to come out when the sun had barely started setting, and they dominated the entire sky. Millions of silver dots coating the vast area we call space.

Being a resident of the bustling city of Palo Alto means that I can hardly see the stars for what they really are. But that first time I saw the stars, I was captivated. There were so many more than I had imagined; it looked as though someone’s shaky hands had spilled a salt shaker over a gradient blue tablecloth. Dad tried to point constellations out to me, attempting to show me the Little Dipper and Orion. My eyes darted back and forth; I tried to see the constellations but I couldn’t focus on just one area. How could anyone? There was too much to take in. They looked so big, so promising, yet I was only permitted to see them in certain places. When was the last time you saw the stars?