Catch a Falling Star

Laughter drifts through the cabin, as well as the smell of smoke and hamburgers. I yawn, putting my little five-year-old hand over my mouth. it's dark outside, and I try to resist the urge to run over the window. Whispers surround me, mostly coming from my little hyper excited friends around me, passed from person to person, spreading around me like a wave, or the tide, but also coming from the tall people, the adults, above me. "Is it there? Is it here yet? How about now?" Little kids kneel on the zigzagged cushions by the wooden windows, staring out across that campsite into the night. "Not yet". We're all eagerly waiting for the scheduled meteor shower, the one chance to catch a falling star.

We are reluctantly pulled away from the windows to my favorite part of the camp, the contests. I sit on a wooden bench next to my mom, not finished, still rough and smelling like pine. All of the people from the camp gather around the main circle, waiting for the contests to start. The first couple go by in a blur, laughter and flashing lights and warmth. Suddenly something pulled me outside. I slipped my little hand out of my mom's big one, and while she was distracted, walked casually over to the door. I pressed against the swinging screen door, and it gave easily under my weight, and I stumbled out onto the porch from the force of my momentum. The door slams behind me, muffling the sounds from inside of the cabin.

I look around at the brown wooden planks of the porch, the faded Foosball table, and the steps leading down into the solitary yard. Laughter and warmth from the cabin trickle out behind me. I take a couple of steps away from the door, and then descend the steps into the yard. The farther I get away from the cabin, the more I notice; the sound my boots make hitting the dusty, hard packed dirt, the deserted truck and volleyball courts, the smell of dirt and grass and horses, and the sound of reeds and long grass rustling in the wind, owls hooting in a perfect rhythm from far away, and the faint trickling of the stream. I look up and see the stars above me on the dark sky. It kind of looks like a snowglobe, I think, and we're inside of it. Why not? The cool wind blows against me from multiple directions and I shiver. I should go inside, I think. I voice counters "just a couple of minutes more".

And then from the sky, there's a streak of light. It was there, bright and blinding, a bit of movement standing out, and then it was gone. Two little ones follow after that. Two, three. And then it stops. I stand there for one second, and then go inside.

Sure, maybe not everything is like in books, or in movies, where it always works out, and you always get that little perfect fairy-tale moment. Ok, definitely not. But this is my one fairy-tale moment, so perfect that it could have been put in a children's book. It's funny how something so little like that can make you so happy. All it takes is the chance to catch a falling star.