If you’re not familiar with that old song, Catch a Falling Star, here are the lyrics:
Catch a falling star and put it in your pocket, never let it fade away.
Catch a falling star and put it in your pocket, save it for a rainy day.
Actually I caught 20 falling stars in the course of one-half hour. Determined to catch a glimpse of the Perseid meteor shower that is peaking right now, I mentioned it to middle daughter last night. I had read that the shower would peak some time in the wee hours of the morning in our area so I asked, “Who’s going to get up with me to watch for falling stars?”
I knew hubby wouldn’t take me up on it because he was already dead tired and it was only 10 p.m. Besides he had to go to work today as well. So I was pleasantly surprised when my daughter, who is a sleep-deprived new mom of our six month old grandbaby, said she wanted to witness the meteor shower too.
Seriously? Yes, seriously. We agreed when we headed off for bed that I’d set my alarm for those wee hours of the morning and that I’d awaken her to join me on our back yard deck for the show.
We all turned in for the night but I didn’t sleep much. Whether I was too excited about seeing the stars or just worried I’d sleep through it, I tossed and turned until I heard my alarm sound. I tiptoed downstairs and opened up our front door. Brrr. One of those crisp, chilly nights reminiscent of fall greeted me.
I threw a sweatshirt and sweatpants on over my nightgown, found my fuzzy warm slippers, and entered the bedroom where my daughter was sleeping soundly. Gently calling her name, I half expected her to say she wanted to stay in bed, but she climbed right out of that warm, cozy bed to join her mama in pursuit of a meteor shower.
I grabbed the soft fleecy Steelers blanket for her on the way to the deck and my daughter wrapped herself in it.
The night sky was absolutely magnificent. Being out here in the country there aren’t many bright lights to interfere with observing the stars on any given night, except when there is cloud cover. But oh, not last night.
The heavens were breathtakingly clear, no cloud in sight and the expanse of stars was absolutely awe-inspiring. I honestly don’t remember seeing so many stars lighting up the darkness covering our surroundings. Bright orbs of light even hung low on the horizon giving us the feeling that we were in a planetarium looking up at the starry show.
And then my daughter spotted it. The first shooting star. And there. Another one. A quick flash of light and sudden streak. And oh, look there, that one left a trail. We kept count and even though we were only on the deck for 30 minutes, we spied 20 falling stars (and a couple of jet planes too).
We talked about constellations and how we wished we knew more of them so we could identify them because the jet black expanse of nighttime was chock full of them. We spoke of how utterly amazing it was that God created the heavens and that He knew how many stars He placed in the sky. And we fell silent thinking that over.
And then I sang so softly… “catch a falling star and put it in your pocket…” And my daughter cracked me up with her immediate quip, “Well, that would be kinda hot, don’t you think?” And we laughed and pointed to yet another shooting star.
We made a sweet memory to last a lifetime and shared an experience bound with love while we shivered on the deck catching falling stars. A memory to store away in the pockets of our minds to pull out later on those rainy days when life seems so difficult.
Shooting stars are blazing bright one moment and faded away into nothingness the next. But the time spend with my middle born child (okay, she’s an adult) will never fade away. And I wouldn’t have traded those 30 minutes of stargazing on the deck with my daughter for anything, not even a pocketful of stars.
“If the stars should appear one night in a thousand years, how would men believe and adore; and preserve for many generations the remembrance of the city of God which had been shown! But every night come out these envoys of beauty, and light the universe with their admonishing smile.” ~ Ralph Waldo Emerson, Nature and Selected Essays