Shooting stars

Star trails

Last night there was apparently a meteor shower with estimated meteors flying through the air at a rate of up to 25-40 an hour.

There are three people in our house who have more than a passing interest in all things ‘night sky-ish’ (can you guess which one of us is the odd one out??), so when this long awaited night arrived, of course we had to go out, way past bed time, to look.

We had been at a party, so at least I was already out and about and not in my trackie dacks by the fire. We drove for hoooooouuuuuuurrrrrrrrs on back country roads that were covered in the sort of saturating black you only find in the country, were waved at by a strange man who suddenly appeared in our headlights and finally arrived at what was deemed a suitable location to stare into the sky ad infinitum.

And it was lovely, although I did complain about the cold and that I needed to use the amenities, of which there was only the ‘behind a stump’ variety. Naturally, I held it.

So we stood and stared up into the starry sky, chatting about this and that and me, getting a bit bored, accidentally scared the smallest child with the simple question “What would you do if a UFO landed in that paddock right there?” (Those not scared answered that we would hop aboard!)

Now one thing you must know – I have never seen a shooting star (yes, I’m aware they are really meteors and not stars – I do know that much!) and neither had the ten-year-old-scared-of-UFO’s-daughter.

One by one there were cries of ‘I just saw one!’ and, rudely, even ‘I saw another one!’

Everyone saw one but me. I was told to look over this side, no, now that side, Β and it was described again in detail exactly what I should be looking for because, really, the concept of a bright light moving across your field of vision is tricky to grasp. And when all that failed, I was told in a I’m-so-disappointed-in-you tone by my youngest that I just wasn’t believing it enough, implying my ability to see magic was seriously flawed.

Dejected, ridiculed, shunned, spat upon…okay, probably just dejectedly, I got back in the car and tried to be happy for those who ‘believed’ enough and had seen a shooting star.

It was on the trip home that it hit me.

Of course I’ve seen shooting stars!

I see a shooting star every time my daughter tells me she played with the person no one likes at school or spends her pocket money on Destiny Rescue jewellery because she gets that she’s supporting them.

I see a shooting star every time my teenager’s eyes well with tears when talking about the girls in Thailand or when she sees a need and meets it, quietly with no fanfare and expecting no thanks.

I see a shooting star every time my son shows integrity in the face of a difficult situation or listens and supports a friend going through a tough time.

I see shooting stars all around me. I just didn’t recognise them for what they are until now.

And I’m happy if they’re the ‘only’ shooting stars I ever see πŸ™‚


10 thoughts on “Shooting stars

  1. Now that you mention it, I see shooting stars whenever my grandsons giggle, or when they solve a difficult math problem, or learn a new spelling word, or want to snuggle up to my side. Excellent reminder!


  2. I’m delighted to have a new perspective on all things special. They (shooting stars, miracles, magic, angels and the like) are all around us, all the time. I just need to believe enough. I like this one a lot!

    I’m also happy you weren’t ridiculed, shunned and spat upon … made me laugh. And I do love a good giggle, Susannah. Thank you.


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