Perseid Still

Tonight I found myself lying on the roof of my garage, staring at a sky filled with stars. I was out to catch a glimpse of the Perseid meteor shower. Unfortunately, my outing had to be cut short as waking up for work at 5:30 am is tough even when an early night precedes it.

As I stood there, a vast separation was formed between the natural and the unnatural. Man-made lights were blinding, yet dull compared to the glisten of the heavenly bodies. Cars rushing by in their attempt to speed up the slowness of time and get to their destination quicker deafened my ears to the song that the stars sang, the whisper of the trees, and the conversation between a mother and a daughter.

Everything but the beautiful faded into the distance and I began to realize an overwhelming sense of stillness. Despite my knowledge that our Earth is spinning on its axis at roughly 1000 mph, and that it travels around the sun at a speed of about 67000 mph, and that even our galaxy is spinning and our universe is expanding; despite my understanding that taking a picture of the night sky would result in the stars forming beautiful streaks across the image; despite all this, I felt remarkably static. Time had frozen around me, as had everything that exists within it. Even the trees seemed to be motionless, although the light breeze through their leaves reminded me otherwise. The sounds was like each tree had a secret to tell. Some secrets were tales of beauty experienced during the tree's ageless existence. Others were noble stories of the past; like fairy tales only more true and more real, and more magical. And finally, the youngest trees told secrets of the future, secrets that only trees can reveal; hopes and dreams which will eventually turn into reality. In turn, each was telling their secret, and they listened, and I listened. And the stars provided illustration, because tonight the trees and the stars were a team; neither wishing to outdo the other.

And then, a spark of brilliance would fly across the sky. Modestly, the stars continued on their imperial existence. The trees however, stood a little more proudly, stretching out their limbs as if to catch the falling star and cradle it. My body flooded with mystery and praise for what is beyond this artful masterpiece as I breathed in the sky laid out before me, framed with the shimmering leaves.

So I laid there, on my roof, with a ladder below me and the intense wonderful unknown above me, as I and the rest of this insignificant Earth were soaring straight into the bold remains of comet 109P/Swift-Tuttle. We are blessed with such beauty.