Wish Upon a Shooting Star?

Tonight we celebrated the return to normal time with our first moonlit walk of the season.

For our family, these nocturnal jaunts are a regular occurrence throughout the winter. Why? Well because we have a rather high strung dog. A dog who has the unfortunate tendency to poop in the house when he doesn’t get his nightly jaunt.  So unless it’s 50 below zero or so icy you need skates to make your way up the street, we bundle up and head on out.

That’s not to say we always enjoy these walks. As a matter of fact, once it  gets cold and dark, I tend to grump my way up the street and back. And tonight started out to be no exception.

I was annoyed that my gloveless hands were chilly on the stroller’s handlebars. I was disgruntled because I couldn’t see where I was going—and growling because our flimsy little umbrella stroller kept getting stuck between the sidewalk and the grass (I have a steering problem when it’s dark).

But then Tori looked up—and her face glowed. “Sky!” she crowed. “Sky!”

She was seeing the night sky, complete with twinkling stars, probably for the first time. She goes to bed early—too early to see dark in the summer—and the winter was so cold last year, we didn’t get out much. And when we did? She was too bundled up to look in any direction other than straight ahead.

So I stopped and looked up. I looked and I pointed out the stars and I forgot to be grumpy.

The night sky really is beautiful. Especially where we are—our small town is free of the  light pollution found in big cities. There are so many stars that it baffles the mind—all glittering brightly like tiny little Christmas lights in the sky.

We continued on our way, seeing everything with new eyes—the way Tori was seeing it. I noticed how the streetlights gave off warm pools of orange, turning our shadows into fun house mirrors. I smiled at the colored lights our Hindu neighbors had strung to celebrate Diwali, cheering the night.

But most of all, I looked up. Up at that beautiful sky—the one I pass under every day, but rarely notice.

And that’s why as we walked home we saw it—the shooting star. We stood still as it streaked across the night sky, Tori pointing  at its fiery tail. Just before it winked out of existence, I realized I should make a wish. But all I could think to ask for were more moments like this.

More moments free from worry, from bitterness and from stress. More time spent focusing on the here and now, rather than waiting for the future to arrive. More days spent acting like a kid again—with our kid.

So my wish? Was just to remember to look up a little more often. Look up and be happy.

I’m pretty sure that one will come true.

14 Comments on Wish Upon a Shooting Star?

  1. C @ Kid Things
    November 7, 2010 at 8:47 pm (5 years ago)

    I wrote a very similar entry on Friday. It’s amazing what kids and the sky can teach us if we just pause for a minute.

    Reply
    • Amber
      November 8, 2010 at 8:32 am (5 years ago)

      The world actually is a pretty gorgeous place if we stop and look. I need that reminder when winter’s bearing down on me…

      Reply
  2. Rebecca
    November 7, 2010 at 9:28 pm (5 years ago)

    Wow, amazing that you still take the dog on a walk when it’s cold because I am way too weak to do something like that. AND, how sweet when Tori looked up and said Sky! I remember walking with my daughter when she was somewhere near 9 months old and as soon as we got near the interstate (our OLD neighborhood’s ‘front yard’ was the interstate and we were about a 1/4 mile away from it) she stopped moving (she was normally kicking and flapping her hands and bouncing up and down) and just stared in awe. We stood there for at least 30 minutes every single day because she was so calm and peaceful watching the traffic on the interstate.

    Reply
    • Amber
      November 8, 2010 at 8:31 am (5 years ago)

      The things kids can teach you, huh? I never thought to think of the interstate as peaceful, but I guess there is the constant whooshing of the cars…that’s kinda a nice noise.

      Reply
    • Amber
      November 8, 2010 at 8:30 am (5 years ago)

      Amen. It’s far too easy to grump your way through life…at least it is for me.

      Reply
  3. Andi
    November 7, 2010 at 10:30 pm (5 years ago)

    Thank you for this. Sometimes you just need to remember the world as a child. I tend to forget that.

    Reply
    • Amber
      November 8, 2010 at 8:30 am (5 years ago)

      Me too. Most of the time. I guess that’s why we have kids, huh?

      Reply
  4. Erica
    November 8, 2010 at 8:47 am (5 years ago)

    This summer, when we were in the outer banks, and I was up with an inconsolable baby, I took her outside on the deck overlooking the beach. OBX is very dark at night-where we were at least, and perfect for Stargazing.

    In a moment between scream and tears, I saw it- a perfect shooting star. It was one of those moment I had alone with bumblebee that I will never forget and it made all the cries worth it.

    Reply
    • Amber
      November 9, 2010 at 8:52 am (5 years ago)

      Love. It’s funny how beauty can find us at the strangest times, isn’t it?

      Reply
    • Amber
      November 9, 2010 at 8:51 am (5 years ago)

      Couldn’t have summed it up better myself.

      Reply
  5. Jen {at} take2mommy
    August 16, 2011 at 2:28 pm (4 years ago)

    Love this! Thanks for tweeting and “recycling” today. We live close to NYC and thus, close to massive light pollution. Still, I’m glad for the reminder to stop and take in nature’s beauty. It’s been a long while since I’ve seen a shooting star.

    Reply
    • Amber
      August 18, 2011 at 9:34 pm (4 years ago)

      It was a really magical moment! One I had forgotten. Yay for blogging!

      Reply

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