A dearth of [cosmic] debris

It's 6:08 and I've been up for almost two hours.  I got up to look for meteors at 4:14, and stared at the quiet grey sky for some time.  Only Jupiter was intermittently visible, but I sat and bore witness for most of an hour.  Some years the Leonids lance across the sky as bright as a headlight – and never more dramatic than when there are clouds that they pierce through.
 
A nice quiet time to sit and think, anyhow, looking at the dark skeletons of trees against the night sky glow.

"A man should hear a little music, read a little poetry, and see a fine picture every day of his life, on order that worldly cares may not obliterate the sense of the beautiful that God has implanted in man's soul." – Goethe
  

A good principle.  Of course you have to "find" the time, as if it were hidden behind something.
 

It is, of course.  Hidden behind the concrete veil of the quotidian.

Ah well, to work, to work.  (Twerk!  What a useful verb.  The action had been around for thousands of years without a single word to describe it.)

Joe