We Are All Made of Stars

The street is slick with rain, fenced for works in progress, cluttered with signs and barriers. Yet above it all, the stars have returned — bright, geometric, electric — heralding the slow, luminous arrival of Christmas in Brussels.

A lone figure walks toward the camera, wrapped in a scarf and his own thoughts. He is grounded, ordinary, human. But above him, a constellation of neon dreams stretches deep into the vanishing point, inviting passersby to look up, to believe, even if just for a moment.

This photograph captures the paradox of the urban winter: cold, messy, fractured — and yet luminous with potential. The construction fences are still up, the road is still closed, but the stars don’t wait for completion. They remind us that celebration does not depend on perfection.

In the quiet steps of the walker, beneath a canopy of artificial constellations, the city whispers a deeper truth: we are all — in science, in story, in soul — made of stardust.

A festive scene, yes. But also a cosmic one.