I awakened sometime after midnight, awake enough to get out of bed and move to the window . . . and thought I saw a falling star drop between Spoon Mountain and Pueblo Peak.
It was so quick — just the tiniest bright spark arcing downward, gone in less than the blink of an eye — that I still can’t be sure that I actually saw it. It might have been a trick of the light underneath a moon-bright sky,
But I don’t think so.
Shooting stars are, of course, technically meteors, and our season when meteor showers are most visible here is late summer, with the Perseids. It’s rare for us to see them in winter; whether that’s a function of weather circumstance, time of appearance, both, neither, something else, I have no idea. But the Geminids are due to show themselves on December 13th and 14th, and it’s entirely possible for the opening act to have begun last night.
It’s a little bit of fire in the season that belongs (or should belong) to the snow, sparks in the cold night sky working a little end-of-year mystery and magic.
Today’s featured work is one that was created with the summer manifestations of such celestial spirits firmly in mind, but it suits this week spectacularly well, too. Indeed, for points far enough north of here, its shapes and shades also embody that gift of the sky spirits, the Northern Lights: chatoyant black and icy white and snowflakes on glass and the electric green shades of what wends its way through the winter night skies. It’s found in The Beaded Hoop Collection in the Necklaces Gallery here on the site; from its description:
The Mystical Flames of Falling Stars Necklace
Summer is the season of meteor showers, of the mystical flames of falling stars that pull the green glow of foxfire from the earth and aurora from distant skies as they arc through the night. With this necklace from his newest collection of extraordinary bead jewelry, Wings calls down the refracting green fire from the dark velvet of the midnight hours. At the center, four extraordinary giant barrel beads of faceted old-style green glass alternate with ultra-high-grade rondels of shimmering aquamarine, all of them catching and refracting the descending fire of the summer night. Moving upward, rich gray-green Picasso jasper rounds flow into more hot green and fiery ice. Anchor segments consist of doughnut rondels of glossy snowflake obsidian like individual starlit skies, bisected by individual aquamarine and rainbow moonstone rondels, beneath the intensity of deeper space: giant orbs of black tourmaline, smaller black moonstone spheres, icy selenite, and the starlike twinkle of sterling silver. Necklace hangs 22″ long, excluding findings (dimensions approximate). Designed jointly by Wings and Aji. Another view shown below. Necklace coordinates with Where the Lightning Strikes earrings [sold] and A Storm-Tossed Wildfire Sky coil bracelet. From the Fire series in Wings’s new collection, The Summer Elementals (all pieces shown at the link).
Strand: Tri-ply foxtail plated with silver; sterling silver findings;
Beads: Aquamarine; faceted green glass; Picasso jasper; snowflake obsidian;
rainbow moonstone; black moonstone; selenite; sterling silver
$400 + shipping, handling, and insurance
It’s an extraordinary cascade of nighttime celestial color, but the faceted green glass beads are something truly special. We don’t see much of this anymore: giant glass orbs cut to catch the light, all in the color of old bottles from near a century ago. They glow, they shimmer, but more than that, they are animated by an inner flash, that indefinable something that brings a substance to life. They sit in stark and stunning contrast to the palest aquamarine rondels, themselves exceedingly high-grade stone that manifests in a gradient of pale blues and icy greens, looking for all the world (or perhaps the cosmos) like clouds of stardust drifting through deep space. The grays and blacks, whites and silvers of the remaining beads provide the perfect backdrop: a subtle, simple night sky to hold the neon fire of stars that fall to earth.
Of course, this is the season for mystery, for magic, and yes, for medicine too. In winter, it’s easier to believe in the powers of spirits beyond those we can see and touch, easier to accept that they might wish to pay us a visit, to travel among us, to choose the space above this small orbiting rock in which to end their fiery existence, knowing that if they are sighted, they will be appreciated.
We are slated for snow tomorrow, and already a few clouds are forming behind the peaks. Even so, I expect tonight will be mostly clear, and I think that I might sit up for a while in the dark, just to watch . . . and perhaps have my spirit be warmed by sparks in the cold night sky.
~ Aji
All content, including photos and text, are copyright Wings and Aji, 2022; all rights reserved. Nothing herein may used or reproduced in any form without the express written permission of the owner.
