Do you still remember: falling stars,
how they leapt slantwise through the sky
like horses over suddenly held-out hurdles
of our wishes—did we have so many?—
for stars, innumerable, leapt everywhere;
almost every gaze upward became
wedded to the swift hazard of their play,
and our heart felt like a single thing
beneath that vast disintegration of their brilliance—
and was whole, as if it would survive them!
— Rainer Maria Rilke

August is ending, and so are longer days. I don’t mind the darkness so much, for it opens up other opportunities. Have a look up and see all that we miss scurrying about in the daylight. Just this morning the brilliant kaleidoscope of sunrise greeted the pup and me as we ventured beyond the threshold. She had her nose to the ground, while my own was pointed at the skies. We survey all but the middle, the pup and I.

The Perseids came and went this year, with the inevitable ill-timed overcast skies blocking the show at peak where I live. Still, I saw a few shooting stars this month—enough to keep me looking for more. A meteor is a shock to the senses as it streaks across the sky. Where a moment before there was vast sameness, for an instant there’s a thrilling something burst upon the scene, before it disappears as quickly as it came.

We aren’t so different from shooting stars, are we? We think we will live forever until we realize we won’t. That realization in itself is a jolt to the vast sameness of living. Memento mori. Make this streak through the dark a little brighter, buckaroo! We ourselves are a thrilling something, if we seize the day. Hurry now: the ride goes quickly.