I've just gained an entirely new understanding of the word "infinity." It's a precious knowledge that only a night at sea can provide. The stars are an infinite collection of worlds that overlap and shine down through the nebula. I've never seen such stars. But the real magic of tonight drifts past us, below us. The water is smooth as the surface of a full, untouched drinking glass. We speculated with confusion as to why the stars were only reflected in the glow of the stern light and quickly grabbed our strongest flashlight. As Herby swept the light over the black water, incomprehensible numbers of creatures responded by glowing as far down as the spotlight could penetrate. He said it was like illuminating a universe. I have never seen beauty that evoked so much wonder. We painted the water with billions of tiny glowing specks as we swept the light across. Why do they respond in such a way? What are they? In our sweeping, we found graceful pink jellies trailing long flowing tendrils. Were these baby jellies? In the end it didn't matter. What mattered was the beauty; the glowing lives floating past us as infinite as the stars. And no one to see them but us.
