Carl Sagan wrote, “Who are we? We find that we live on an insignificant planet of a humdrum star lost in a galaxy tucked away in some forgotten corner of a universe in which there are far more galaxies than people.”
Yet on this little dust mote floating in the eternity of space and time, there exists the curious phenomenon of human awareness that makes it all so terribly personal.
Or, as Galileo put it into perspective: “The Sun, with all the planets revolving around it, and depending on it, can still ripen a bunch of grapes as though it had nothing else in the Universe to do.”
So it is the way of Love, to the ordinary spectacular.