Rest and Rockets

I'm lucky to live in an apartment complex that has a charming little pond surrounded by lush greenery. Sometimes I go for a walk when I want to be inspired or need to clear my head. On one particular day I was out enjoying the fresh air. I decided to sit for a moment and just be still.

Across the pond the sun was settling behind the roofs of the apartments. The cloudless sky was an unbroken palette of soft pastels marked by the bold blacks of the silhouetted trees. The small patches of algae sit as still on the surface of the water as I sit on the grass. Only the insects that belong to the dust circulate lazy paths through the atmosphere. 

I take a deep breath and let myself plunge backwards into the grass. I feel every crunchy blade across my back as I keep my eyes set on the blended expanse of colors above me. 

I catch a rocket crossing the sky. A miniscule dash of texture on an otherwise pristine canvas. I lay in the grass and watch it fall gracefully back to earth. A lonely constellation. A shooting star for a sky still in light. 

My eyes follow its effortless descent and I make a wish.