Out into the predawn chill, its calm air prickling my cheeks, I glance toward the heavens where perhaps a thousand correspondents glance back at me. I ponder their intergalactic voyeurism me as I begin my morning stroll around the complex.

Perhaps they are bemused by my idiosyncratic personal regimen. If they eavesdrop on my thoughts, they are less intrigued (perhaps offended) by my trivial thinking at this hour of the day. However, so far as I know, they have never scolded or corrected me.

Should I mark that up to respectful reserve, and assume that their race is more tolerant than my terrestrial neighbors? Or attribute it to the mere limitations of distance, as any objective astronomer would do?

I walk on, mindful of a distant neighbor’s barking dog. Another distant neighbor may be aware of my stirring, too; but if he or his companion sound an alarm, it does not reach my ear.