Astrothesia (as-tro-the’-si-a): A vivid description of stars. One type of enargia.
It’s August in Maine. I’m outside. It’s 11.00pm. I look up. There is no moon. The sky is glowing with starlight. The dark black sky contrasts with the with the stars, or do the stars contrast with the dark black sky? Forever they’ve held the night, present since the beginning of time. They guide us. They delight us. They inspire us. We wish “upon” them.
That’s why I’m out here by the ocean tonight—I hear the waves. I see the stars piled together in the Milky Way. From the vast twinkling sky full of blinking stars, I must choose one to wish upon. When I look up, it has to be the first star I see. That will be my wishing Star. I look up and make my wish:
Star light, star bright,
First star I see tonight,
I wish I may, I wish I might,
Have this wish I wish tonight.
“Dear Star, I want a chainsaw.”
There, it’s done. Maybe I should’ve been more specific with a brand name, size, or color. I was hoping for a Poulin or Craftsman big enough to cut down the giant oak tree that was going to land on my parents’ house in the next big storm. I had worked one summer for a tree service “Sawdust Saviors.” So, I could handle the cutting. What was going to be really hard to handle is our neighbor. He owns the tree and he refuses to have it removed.
Two days later, a chainsaw showed up on the front porch. It was my “Plan B.” I was almost certain my star wish for a chainsaw wouldn’t work, so I had ordered a Poulin from Amazon. Two days after that an empty box with a note in it showed up on the porch. The note accused me of “double dipping” and I was prohibited from Star-wishing forever. I thought it was some kind of joke. Then I saw a garden gnome across the street giving me the finger. He disappeared in a puff of green smoke when I started to cross the street to talk to him.
I had seen him before, I had a history of mental illness, marked by hallucinations. I must’ve forgotten to take my medication. The last time I saw that Garden Gnome was when I had stolen my parent’s car. The gnome was riding in the passenger seat egging me on. I didn’t know how to drive (I was twelve) and crashed into the mailbox as I backed out of the driveway. There were other incidents, so my parents sent me to “The Parkdale Home for Wayward Lads.” I had just gotten home after being released and going to Maine.
I got up at 4.00am to prepare to cut down my neighbor’s tree. I waited until he went to work so he wouldn’t try to stop me. I put on my ear protectors and cranked up the saw. saw dust flew. The saw cut through the tree trunk like butter.
I miscalculated. The tree fell on my house, crushing the roof. I broke the plumbing in the upstairs bathroom and water was spraying all over. I heard laughter behind me and turned to see who it was. There was nobody there.
Definition courtesy of “Silva Rhetoricae” (rhetoric.byu.edu)
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