The humid, thick summer air surrounds my body as my thighs stick to the chair like glue—keeping me half awake on this summer night. The supposed cooling breeze is nonexistent tonight, so the air idles—sitting on your chest making it hard to breath at times.

Except this time, a bright flashing in the distance kept me awake. Normally, this would not be an issue but my crooked shade never closes all the way.

I abruptly jumped out of bed curious to see what the commotion was outside. The dark night sky lights up with a rainbow of colors as bursts of fireworks shoot off. Red, blue, yellow flash rapidly, then slowly fade away again and again and again.

Being the antsy 10-year old I am, I run to tell my parents about the free light show. We sit together embracing each other as we watch the sky, admiring the ominous black background and the shine of the stars. I find myself gazing into the night sky—my neck aches from the harsh angle.

I had never noticed how the stars glimmer in the sky, or how the moon wore a halo around its borders. I never noticed how perfectly placed each star is or how the constellations fit like the world’s largest puzzle. I had never noticed how bright the sky was once the sun set in the distance, and I had never noticed how many stars there are.

The tranlinquant light show of the night sky slowly lulls me to sleep, still embraced in my parents’ arms. When the show ends and all that’s left is the angelic glow of the moon, they place me back in bed.

I fall asleep, but every night from then on, I took one last peek out my window in case the light ever show came back—not wanting to miss another moment of the wonders of the night sky.