A Night Sky Painted With Stars

It was perhaps 1.30 am as I was walking through the deserted quietness of the pitch black night. To my left, in the distance, the dark, ragged silhouette of the forest could be felt more than it was actually visible. The air was ice cold and accordingly clear, and it revealed a firmament sprinkled with stars from horizon to horizon.

"Crescent", from Brendan Perry's "Ark" album, was playing in my headphones, and the sensation of it all was completely overwhelming. I couldn't help thinking intensely of Daniel Wieser, whose existence in human form on this planet had ceased not too long ago and who had now again become part of the cosmic dust from which he had arisen all these years ago. And whose friendship and smile I will miss and remember until the day when I, too, shall follow.