They all looked in wonder at the moon, by Member Louis A Coutts

They all looked in wonder at the moon.

by Member Louis A Coutts

I am not sure if other people have an experience that frequently visits me. Someone says something or I read something and suddenly a train of thought locomotes itself through my brain and I end up in a space that has absolutely nothing to do with what the person said or what I read. And so it was that recently, in my insomniacal state I was gazing out of my bedroom window and contemplating the spectacle of a full moon which seemed to be peering at me with all its immense luminosity. At that very point, a message appeared on my phone. It was from my son in Japan, and it contained a picture of the very moon that was holding me in its spell. Underneath the photo, my son quoted Neil Diamond “And they all looked in wonder at the moon”. And that is when my thought train took off. I was suddenly in Columbus circle opposite to the entrance of Central Park in New York on a hot humid evening. The humidity was so intense that it seemed to form an invisible amphitheatre populated by an audience enchanted by the music of a young man with a guitar playing all the wonderful songs of Paul Simon. “Sounds of silence”, “Mrs Robinson”, “Bridge over troubled waters”, “slip sliding away”, “I am a Rock”, “Homeward bound”, “Scarborough Fair” and I can’t remember what else. Song after song, sung beautifully by this lone guy with his guitar. The sounds of the music echoed off the pressing atmosphere and remained trapped in our magical invisible theatre. Several hundred of people were captivated by to this magic and no one uttered a sound as though this huge City no longer existed. The audience, like me, was mesmerised by this talented young man who completely mastered the purity and simplicity of the music of Paul Simon. At times I had the feeling that I was alone in the audience, standing on the warm bitumen and that this guy was playing and singing only for me. He created such an exquisite sense of intimacy with his audience. Sadly, he finally finished what seemed to be an endless repertoire and the crowd, after dutifully expressing their gratitude with dollar notes, faded away into the night of this enigmatic city. But having so beautifully disturbed my night, the train kept going and I found myself beyond the moon and alone in the universe somewhere in the galaxy of Andromeda, about two million light years from earth. I wished I was Neil Diamond or Paul Simon or even John Denver so I could translate into music this feeling of dumbfounding awe in the presence of billions of galaxies like our own milky way and trillions of stars like our sun as they crushed the boundaries of our universe at speeds which some calculate to be close to the speed of light. Out here in the universe, unhindered by human interference or malevolence I felt that I was seeing reality for the first time. This was nature performing its celestial acts according to ancient and immutable laws. The magnitude and enormity of these nuclear power houses defied any

puny intervention. The unimaginable power of nature so embarrassingly emphasised my insignificance. And then I thought of my home; Earth. The trifling issues which preoccupy us. Someone is planning what is promoted as the most wonderful achievement of sending people to Mars. And yet, in this imaginary journey beyond the moon I find myself a couple of million light years from earth and no where near the billions of light years to the extremity of our universe. Mars is a few light seconds from earth. How insignificant! I am told that earth governments spend over one trillion dollars each year on what is euphemistically called “defence” but in reality, is expenditure on technology and people with the capacity to kill other members of the human race. Up here, witnessing the breathtaking splendour of this phenomenal institution of our Universe, I can’t believe we as humans, in an insignificant corner of our universal home, can be so preoccupied with such stupid and brain-dead enterprises to which millions of people devote most of their living moments. My goodness, we are so smart that we have built technology capable of actually destroying our planet. And if that nuclear disaster ever occurred, do you know what? The universe wouldn’t notice and would continue on its miraculous journey according to its ancient and never changing laws. We have developed an economic model that depends upon ever increasing consumption without taking pause to consider what happens when we run out of stuff or if we wreck the environment before that catastrophic finale. The subjects of political toxicity are so trivial that if the planet does survive, people in a thousand years will reflect on our infantile stupidity. And so, my thought train takes me back to Columbus Circle and that humid night when a loan person stopped the world and trapped a few fellow travellers in the simple purity of the music of Paul Simon. How wonderful it would be if we could have so many more magic moments like that and more time to contemplate the majesty of the Universe and less time doing so many stupid things.