A wrong turn at the crossroads outside the pub takes us up, on to the roof of the world it seems. Threading our way along ancient Cornish lanes, the May dusk fades into the sea.
Suddenly a ball of bright, white light streaks across the sky.
“What was that?” We exclaim!
Was it a shooting star? I thought they were usually high up in the sky, this was lower. It had streaked across the horizon at jet fighter height and speed. Maybe it was a UFO, or some new, secret weapon we weren’t supposed to see.
Back home, I look on Google. It was a shooting star, a Sporadic meteor and if we hadn’t taken the wrong turning we would never have seen it.
Maybe it was the right turning after all.