Snowflakes and Stars

Catching snowflakes on my tongue makes me think of all the things I loved from childhood. 

Kind of like how watching reruns of the Dukes of Hazard still makes me blush a little remembering the crush I had on Tom Wopat. Please don't ever tell anyone that. 

And like how planetariums and stars fill me with childlike wonder and joy. We went to a planetarium in Portland and it was exactly like the one at COSI growing up. 

Exactly. 

Same dramatic music. Laser pointer. Bored college intern narrating the constellations. 

And I found it equally as thrilling. I loved planetariums so much growing up that my folks bought me a small one for my room and even though I was terrified of the dark, I would brave turning out the lights to stare at the stars. 

We don't see stars that often in Southeast Alaska because cloud cover is a regular phenomenon, but Thursday night when I stayed at a cabin with a crew of Sr. High youth awake long after my bed time, the sky was breathtaking. The stars were brilliant, the Milky Way vivid, shooting stars streaked across the sky and the Aurora bounced behind the mountains. 

And I tried to remember all the constellations while listening to youth talk about black holes, infinity, space, time, and our place in it. 

I like naming the constellations because it feels like order, and I love the stories behind them and  I love that the artwork is similar to my skill level. A line is Canis Minor. That's about as well as I draw a dog, especially a small dog. 

But, I also love how tiny I feel. It's a gift to bask in the vastness of space and to have my responsibilities and life put into proper perspective. I'm a speck. Yay!

Yes, I'm responsible for tending the space around me, but I am not in charge of all time and space so relax. 
And catch snowflakes on your tongue. 
But not while you're walking. 
Running into a parked vehicle - another reminder of childhood.