The existence of something bigger

Vibrant pigments and glowing landcapes like this are common in Nebraska at night, and on my last evening at

home, this is what the sunset started out like. We were about 20 miles from home, but the views out there on the open plains are all the same. It's just the foreground scenery that makes a difference. As it does anywhere, really.

I have watched the sun set into the sandy dunes of Egypt; I've seen it slip languidly into the cooling blues of the Alaskan ocean.

But nothing has ever topped my Nebraska sunsets, and as the prairie grasses ate up the sun and my visit with my family came to a close, I was so in awe of the spectacular ending to the trip that I couldn't talk.

We spent the rest of the drive home in silence, and upon arrival, I bailed out of the car and stared up at the pinholes of (now white) light sparkling in the night sky, like I've done every time I get home at night for the past 25 years. Whatever your theory is on our existence, you can't tell me there's not somehing bigger than us up there.