I have been watching the skies for the last hour or so as we begin to turn into the debris field of the Swift-Tuttle comet. Every August the skies light up in a spectacular lightshow. I have a little time until the best viewing hours so I thought I would write about just how insignificant I feel right about now.
I started off in the back of the house immediately watched a few shoot across the sky. One of them was very bright. I was hooked immediately but I soon found out that trying to lay back on a wooden set of staircases is not the most comfortable position. Not to mention I have a green belt behind me and I could hear the animals stirring in the woods. Scared the living heck out of me. So in the house I went. I opened up the front curtains, grabbed my lounge, and opened the windows facing West. I was immediately mesmerized by a very bright star in the West that was flickering at me. Then it hit me. We are a tiny planet in this universe. At that very moment . . . none of my problems seemed to matter. The mere fact that I was alive and sitting in that lounge watching the meteors zoom across the horizon was pretty damn amazing.
It could all end in the blink of an eye.
