Far From the Madding Crowd

I've been reading Far From the Madding Crowd by Thomas Hardy off and on for about a month. Because my opportunities to read are so sporadic, I'm still at the very beginning fo the book. I purchased the book at the used bookstore at home because I loved Tess of the D'Ubervilles by the same author. Even though I bought this book and others by the same author a couple of years ago, this is my first attempt at reading them since I got them. The writing is exquisitely beautiful and I wanted to post a passage which I particularly enjoyed:

To persons standing alone on a hill during a clear midnight such as this, the roll of the world eastward is almost a palpable movement. The sensation may be caused by the panoramic glide of the stars past earthly objects, which is perceptible in a few minutes of stillness, or by the better outlook upon space that a hill affords, or by the wind, or by the solitude; but whatever be its origin the impression of riding along is vivid and abiding. The poetry of motion is a phrase much in use, and to enjoy the epic form or that gratification it is necessary to stand on a hill at a small hour of the night, and having first expanded with a sense of difference from the mass of civilized mankind, who are dreamwrapt and disregardful of all such proceedings at this time, long and quietly watch your progress through the stars. After such a nocturnal reconnoitre it is hard to get back to earth, and to believe that the consciousness of such a majestic speeding is derived from a tiny human frame.

A few years ago, I read in the paper that a meteor shower would be occurring one evening. I shared this with my family, and made plans with my sister and my dad to wake up in the middle of the night and watch the meteor shower. When the time came, we awoke, slipped on shoes and coats, and walked to the foot of our driveway. We stood outside for a few moments, talking and waiting ... and then the magic began. Shooting stars streaked across the sky. We counted them as we saw them. One ... two! Three over there! I stopped counting at one hundred one. 101 wishes to make! I still haven't made them all. The passage above reminds me of that night -- the magic of all that we saw, the sensation of sharing in some amazing celestial secret ... a living dream.

Thinking about the awesome majesty of God recreates that feeling. Here in the city, the stars aren't visible because of the chaos of light emanating from everywhere around me. At home, I can gaze at God's tapestry of the sky and the twinkles of all the stars are too numerous for me to count. I love those moments when God's handiwork causes your breath to catch in your throat, escaping only in a silent "Wow" or a sigh of contentment at receiving such a gift.

What such moments have you experienced lately?