Twinkle, twinkle!

A late-night expedition to observe the Leonids yielded a paltry two shooting stars for me, and only one for G, but being serenaded by some nearby cows almost makes up for it. Picture yourself on a crisp November night, your boots crunching in the snow, the moon so bright it casts black shadows and bathes the fields in silvery blue, your breath clouding and your cheeks getting cold, and then...

"Moooo!"

Unfortunately, we won't be able to see what was supposed to be a spectacular star-shower again before 2099, or so the radio says.