Tonight, there is a meteor shower happening.

Kiddos are asleep, husband has gone to bed. Even the dog and cats are settling in for the night.

I am at the window, watching.

It’s been raining all week and cloudy when it wasnt wet, but tonight, the sky is clear and star-studded. I’ve only been here a few minutes, and I’ ve already seen 3 meteors fall.

I am not an astronomer, by any means. I don’t know which meteor shower this is, or what the meteors might be made of. Part of me is terribly amused at the notion it could be the poo waste from the ISS, burning up in the atmosphere. We could all be sitting here, enthralled, by NASA’s version of an incinerating toilet.

But rocks or dustballs, or wayward cosmonaut poo, there is something majestic about watching meteors fall.

It is calming, meditative. It makes you see the smallness of this planet in the bigness of the universe at large. It makes you wonder how long those bits of whatever have been flying around out there. Where they came from, what they would bear witness to if they could.

Did they hear the Voice in the beginning? Did they go spinning off when He formed this planet or another one?