It is after 1:00 in the morning as I write this.
I'm staying with some friends in a real life log cabin on a lake in Wisconsin for the weekend. We've spent our time tramping around in the boggy woods, building forts, kayaking, eating sloppy joes, star-tipping, and canoeing at midnight. Pretty cool.
This evening, after returning from going out on the lake, several of us just flopped down on the dock and stared up at the multitudes of stars. It's a clear night, and the lake is secluded, so we could see everything.
The first shooting star I saw, I automatically thought of a wish. But after it was gone, I felt unsatisfied. What's the point of wishing for stuff on a dying meteorite? It's just a rock! Instead, what if every time I saw a star, I spoke to the God who created all the flying objects up there? A prayer for each brilliant streak across the sky...
Another celestial light zipped across the Milky Way. Floating beneath a canopy woven by a Creative Genius, I smiled to myself and thought of something to say.