I’m sitting here in our little campsite just taking in my surroundings.  The evening chill is just starting to set in, not too hot and not yet cold. Next to me, my wife is reading under the light. A few meters away, our son is snoring in the tent. If I face away from illuminated circle of the campsite – in any direction – I see nothing but black; it’s like a solid wall of darkness just beyond the edge of the light. All around me are the sounds of the night; the whistling of a bird; the faint chirping of insects; the woosh and gurgle of the nearby waterfall; the croaking of a lone frog in the distance. Above me are myriad stars, spread out across a sky that’s a single shade lighter than the surrounding forest. In quite a small way, this is perfect.