Gazing for Geminids

I'm having trouble starting this story. I want it to have a certain tone and style and frankly, it's just not coming to me. I wanted something more eloquent than what I'm sure is to follow, but achieving eloquence isn't easy early in the morning. This isn't to say that it's any easier later in the day, but to make me feel better, let's pretend I'll be busting out the brilliance this afternoon.

A random bit of trivia that will make me smile when I look back on this entry: On Sunday, there was the 79th Annual Trek to the Tree. The tree everybody treks to is the General Grant Tree, also known as the Nation's Christmas Tree, located in Kings Canyon National Park. According to the event description, it's the only living National Shrine honoring those who gave their lives serving our country. I think it would be a treat to attend the celebration someday. I also like the fact that it's the people who travel to the tree and not the other way around, like a certain tree in New York City. It's admirable that Rockefeller Center recycles it afterwards, but wouldn't it be better if the tree was allowed to live out its long life in peace, on its own plot of ground?

Now that I've sufficiently stalled, I guess I'll try to tell the story.

We stood out in the cold last night, craning our necks back as we attempted to see all of the darkened sky. We couldn't completely escape the glare of city lights, but from where we stood, we could still see hundreds of stars shining above. Between us, we had seen three Geminids, but had only spotted a faint one together.

With my neck beginning to ache, I said, "Let's see if we can catch one more before going."

We kept staring up in anticipation. I found myself refusing to blink. What if I missed something in the fraction of a second that my eyes were closed?

"There!" she exclaimed. "Did you see it?"

I followed her outstretched finger and saw only stationary stars. I shook my head. I must have missed it while thinking too much about blinking. We continued to stand in silence, eyes to the skies, watching for any movement. Then it came.

"There!" we both declared, both pointing at the same white streak of light that shot across the sky. It was bright and amazing and it made standing in the cold, craning our aching necks, all worth while.