Last night near midnight I decided to head out to the front porch to enjoy a little snack, a glass of wine, and the after-dark sounds of the farm.
The moon was full but I could still see stars and watch the clouds move across the sky. I realized I'd made an error on snack choice when I tried to listen to the peaceful sounds and could only hear CRUNCHCRUNCHCRUNCH as I nibbled my flatbread. But between bites I could hear the gurgle of the creek and the different froggy noises. The spring peepers have finished their songs, but I could hear two other distinct calls. The crickets haven't started chirping yet, and I looked in vain for any early fireflies. It was a cool night so I was spared the typical onslaught of mosquitoes.
All in all, a very nice night as I sipped from my glass and looked at the northern sky.
Then, with no warning, directly in front of me, a shooting star zipped straight across. It wasn't one of the tiny, distant points that I usually look for during the meteor showers of summer; it was a huge flare that sparkled and left a visible trail. It stayed in sight for several seconds while I said "aaahh" and smiled like a little kid. It looked closer than fireworks, and I felt like I could have reached out and touched it. Bonus.