The Thin Blue Illusion

Hello, bonjour to anyone reading this — whenever that may be.

Today will be short — just a reminder of what lies beyond the sky.

Standing on the Earth during the day, and looking up — yes, you need to look up sometimes — what you see is the sky. In the West, we hope to see it blue most of the time, even though we know we need the rain. In other parts of the world, where it’s dry, people are hoping to see the rain coming.

Blue or gray, cloudy or clear. Black — black and streaked with lightning. White. Cream. Burning with bright colors at sunrise or sunset.

Our sky entertains us all day, every day: dancing clouds, passing birds, planes, drones — anything that flies. We can follow the sun along its elliptical path until… night comes.

And then, if the sky is clear, what lies behind the curtain is finally revealed.

Yes, the sky is a curtain — suspended particles reflecting sunlight to create that famous blue color. It’s beautiful for us. It’s somewhat reassuring. It covers the reality.

For those living in cities — most of the world now — the night sky is barely visible, and we tend to forget it exists. But for the lucky ones living away from artificial light, the stars can reveal themselves. The sublime vision of the stars — the Milky Way, even — billions and billions of stars. And only one of them is part of our daily life: the sun.

The sky is such a thin layer — and that very thin layer covers up the fact that we are on a giant ball drifting through darkness. The space between our atmosphere and the sun doesn’t get lit up by it. Space is everywhere — like what we see at night.

That is our reality.

Our sublime reality.

— And boom! A picture of the Orion Nebula.