When the sun’s rays caress my soul and the wind’s gentle breeze runs through me, I feel at one with nature. And when I fall, my bum hitting the padded ground, shockwaves of potential from the Earth’s core flow straight through me, rigid like a puppeteer stick poked up my spine. As I walk barefoot across the diverse surface of our great planet, tiny dirt flecks cover the soft flesh of my feet, speckling them with polka dots as though they were a child’s dress. The prickly grass strands poke at the underbelly of my extremities, beckoning blood cells to the surface, reddening their appearance. My back conforms to the bumpy shapes of terrain as I watch the bright tones of Earth fade away. And as I stare in wonder out at the shining stars, I realize how insignificant a speck of dust I am; but then I ponder, do the stars in other galaxies look at me the same way?