Friday, August 14, 2009

"Excuse me, could you hold that star a minute, please?"

About a week ago, I heard about the meteor shower - shooting stars...come on, how much more wonderful could it be? - supposed to take place Tuesday night, and being the romantic, wish-loving person I am, I really wanted to see it, even if it meant tumbling out of my cozy bed at one in the morning.

Turns out, I didn't go to bed before one, so about one thirty I wrapped up in a shawl and stationed myself outside on our driveway, head twisted upwards at an angle worthy of an owl. (Did you know they can turn their heads backwards? They can.)

To pass the time, (because the stars weren't swooshing and sparkling like good stars should,) I tried to identify the planets and constellations. This shouldn't be too difficult for me since I took a whole two semesters of astronomy last year. But I was pretty much a failure at locating any, so I amused myself by conversing with my awesome cat, Boots. That turned out to be pretty much one-sided, since she really only wanted to go to sleep on my stomach. Traitor.

Just as I was sure my neck was going to be permanently frozen in the upwards position, right there before my eyes streaked a silver, sparkling star. It was truly beautiful, but I was caught off guard and had no wish ready. "All right, it got past me this time, but I'll be ready for the next one."

A few more minutes passed. Boots purred from her perch on my tummy. (By this time I was stretched out on the pavement and just telling myself that massive spiders and beetles were not creeping stealthily up on me.)

Then, whoosh, another streak of silver! I got "I wish" out and it was gone. As in, done. As in, no more trace of yon swooshing star. I wondered to myself if maybe it still counted if you said what you wished right after the shooting star. Couldn't be that important to wish on the shooting star, could it?

The next one, I was ready. I didn't bother with "I wish" - just got right to the heart of the matter and laid my wish right out there on the table. (or the star, if you prefer.) I hope shooting stars have good hearing, becauseIsaiditreallyreallyfast. Like that. And, yes, the star had quit shooting by the time I spit out the last syllable. But that's okay, because if you're crazy enough to believe in wishing upon stars, you can definitely bend the rules a little. It's like an unspoken law in magical happenings.


P.S. What did i wish for? Silly, wishes don't come true if you tell them to somebody, and there has to be a special punishment reserved for those who blatantly shout their wishes on the internet. Like, the opposite of what you wish comes true. And I wouldn't want that to happen, because I really want to live in a chocolate house with raspberry windows and cherry doors.



Oooops.


I'm sorry, wish giving star! Can I please have one more chance? Please?

3 comments:

Emily said...

Sigh . . . I missed it, just like I miss every other meteor shower. At least they're not once-in-a-lifetime events. Like Halley's Comet. Actually, I probably won't get to see that during my lifetime either (or yours), since sadly I was born at the beginning of its orbit. Did you just look at the sky? It might have been easier if you'd been able to remember those constellations. Although I can't remember all of them either, and I'm an astronomy geek according to my family.
Did you happen to notice a very large, very bright golden star? That was Jupiter. I know because I looked it up. And I got proof, because Ben and I looked at, I mean observed it through our brand-new hand-me-down telescope last night. It was Really Really Awesome. Then we dragged Hannah and Sarah out of bed to look at it with us. But we knocked the telly out of place and couldn't get it back. I think the girls still think it was an elaborate prank.
Yours ramblingly,
Emma

Katie Larissa said...

I did see Jupiter. And I actually knew it was Jupiter.

i'll have to look through your telescope sometime when i'm there. Jamie C. has a really awesome, massive telescope, and I love looking through it.

Emily said...

One really awesome thing about mine *ahem* ours is that it was free! (Thank you, Mrs Alice!) Incidentally, Ben (Riley) and Lee looked at Jupiter through Lee's binoculars and according to Ben it looked almost as good as with the telly.