Deep in the Heart of Texas

When I was a little girl, my dad used to sing to me. He was larger than life with a voice that bellowed and could echo through the house. When he would sing, the whole neighborhood knew about it.

I vaguely remember him singing

The moon is bright on a Saturday night

Deep in the heart of Texas.

 I didn’t always like that song. He’s also sing about happiness is Lubbuck in my rearview mirror and other quaint Texas songs. I never paid them any attention – who needed Texas?

But I remember the song, which lyrics are actually:

The stars at night are big and bright
Deep in the heart of Texas
The prairie sky is wide and high
Deep in the heart of Texas
The sage in bloom is like perfume
Deep in the heart of Texas
Reminds me of the one that I love
Deep in the heart of Texas.

I remember the song when I drive late at night. The skies in Texas are wider than in Oregon but that’s probably because the view of the sky isn’t hindered by towering ancient trees or mighty dormant volcanoes. There’s just sky. Miles and miles of blue-blue skies. At night, when I drive with the top down, the warm wind blows through my tendrils, playing them into a curl at the end.

Above my heads are fields of stars – millions of them – each of them with their own star-song and star-shine. Driving at night is one of my favorite things to do. I’ve never seen the stars like this until I moved to Texas. The night sky is what it should be. It strikes wonder, and awe, of God, just by glancing up.

So Dad, you were right – kind of. The moon does shine bright on a Saturday night. But the stars shine bright as well deep in the Heart of Texas.

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