I used to be in a writer’s group, about 10 years ago. One fall we decided to have our own little writers’ retreat and rented a suite in a rundown motel in Long Beach. There were eight of us, IIRC, crammed into the two rooms (plus kitchenette) for a long weekend of lots and lots of writing. We did some exercises and some reading. It was all great fun.
But at night Kat, Joe and I walked out to the beach, which really is a “long beach” — an amazing expanse of long flat sand. It was a clear night, and the sky was glittering with stars. Strangely, the sand was glittering as well: lit up with some sort of luminescent something.
We stayed up late, walking and talking, but what I remember most is the feeling of a vast and fascinating universe. I don’t think I really have words for it. I’m not even remotely a religious person. But this was an ineffable experience.