Solitude’s Riches
To walk amongst the silence of low tide,
Of whispering laps of ocean,
To sit atop a mountain peak
Sensing the wonder of solo reward,
To find an oak tree
And lay down one’s tired body beneath its boughs
Is like all other moments of solitude,
Bound by an encirclement of riches,
The kind that the Milky Way galaxy must feel
When only the low hum of rapid rotation
Contacts the inner core
Of its existence.
Such is the whisper of solitude’s call,
Where peace and rectitude,
The breath of melancholy,
Longs for grace.
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The greatest treatise that I've read on solitude was Henry David Thoreau's Walden. I've experienced a few small Waldens in my brief life and am more the richer for it.
The Milky Way that you described, when seen in pristine air like from the mountaintops you visited, is indeed awe-inspiring. While it (and we) is/are traveling at an awe-inspiring speed around its massive black hole, we hear and feel nothing except uttermost silence.
Ron