I went to a wedding on Saturday on a little island off the southwest Florida coast. When the party ended, we piled into an old-fashioned open-air trolley to drive the 10 minutes back to our hotel.
The sky was brimming with stars. Every inch of the blackness overhead was saturated with stars, so many that they almost seemed to blend into shimmering swaths of light. We rode the trolley with the hot, humid night air pressing in on us. The road was dark and quiet, lined with palm trees that loomed above us, black and spiky and tropical-looking.
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