Shooting Star

This morning, I wasn’t feeling it. I took Dakota out for her playtime. The birds chirped, even though it was still dark. Chirp chirp chirp chirp. Be quiet, I thought. Everyone else is still asleep. You can save it for daylight.

You can tell my attitude was rather poor.

I had a bunch of chores to take care of this morning before work. Cleaning the cat box, dishes, refilling the soap dispenser: all the trappings of adulthood, pet ownership and home ownership. Sometimes it’s the mundane things that can get you down.

I needed to run but wasn’t excited about it. My right foot ached a little bit. I didn’t want to push too hard. But it wasn’t raining. And the road has been completed enough for 90% of the new sidewalk to be in and the streetlights are working. Working! They are two-fers. One arm at a lower level shines over the sidewalk. The other is at the top of the pole and shines down on the street. It’s like daytime. I love it. It wasn’t raining and I knew I should at least take a walk.

Dakota followed me out onto the vacant street. It’s still blocked at the top. Only residents and their visitors have access and that’s from the bottom. The lights left no stone obscured. I walked up the hill. Dakota trotted ahead of me, leading the way, tail wagging. She dropped her ball somewhere along the way. Tongue hanging out, she sniffed piles of temporary rubber fencing. I kept walking, only my shadow for company. I planned to stop at the top of the street where the sidewalk ended. Thanks, Shel Silverstein. I breathed in and out. The air smelled sweet and still.

Then something caught my eye. I saw a plane flying overhead, winging east. Then I saw a shooting star.


Well, at least, that’s what I thought it was. Later, I discovered it was probably a meteor hitting our atmosphere.  It sparkled, separated into 3 separate dazzling pieces, and dropped. Amazing. I couldn’t decide what to wish for, because I was still under the impression it was a shooting star. A million ideas passed through my mind. How to choose? I couldn’t.

So I let it go.  I smiled all the way home. Because there’s a big, fantastic world out there and it’s not all about me.

Thanks, Jesus.