Repeating

I woke up in my car the other night in the mountains west of Rocky Mountain House. I was in transit along that route between the Edmonton area and the okanagan that I'd driven yearly since my parents and sisters started living out there (or, as I say from the coffee shop in the Mission district of Kelowna, here) in the 70s. I'd decided to try sleeping in my Matrix with the seats folded down and a mattress laid out. It was darkest night, brightest stars, when I woke up the other night. I'll claim face-to-face, me and the Dipper, one the mask of the other. We opened at each other, no words. 
No words but I've told the story a couple of times now--camping at Two O'Clock Creek as I used to do, opening my eyes to the stars there.