I had forgotten how much I missed the stars. The other day I looked up as I was leaving for work. (Before the sunrise, as I always do.) The sight above shocked me: beautiful points of pure light scattered across the low, dark Texan sky. Those were the first stars I had seen in years…

That was quite likely the biggest reminder of just how much Nevada had changed me, altered me in ways I can neither imagine nor comprehend. That is something most people do not know about Las Vegas: it has no stars. The overabundance of light pollution from neon signs and casinos blocks out everything except the moon. The self-proclaimed city of sin is separated from the rest of the world by the desert; from the rest of the universe by its ego. A microcosm. A snow globe filled with sand.

I cannot help but wonder what subtle, hidden impact the utter lack of stars has on city dwellers. Is it at all possible that the Bronze Age sheep herders enjoyed more balanced, happier (though infinitely shorter) lives simply because they could fall asleep beneath the beauty of the Milky Way? Most of the world may never even know such view exists. The price of progress…