A star fell from the heavens and landed in a pocket park in San Miguel de Allende,

Right behind the Parroquia de San Miguel Arcangel.

Crazy how people take such things in stride.

If a star had fallen anywhere else, people would have been looking for it on the five o’clock news.

Or is it six? I don’t watch it anymore, now that my news heroes have moved on to legendary status.

Which means, they are either dead or completely ignored.

Which may be the same thing.

Miniature versions of this star have gone up all over the central historic district here in San Miguel.

In the evening, all the stars are lit and shine down like a benign cosmos on the cobblestone streets.

The feeling is magical as you walk beneath them,

Bathed in a silvery golden light that is reminiscent of their sisters and brothers

Far, far, away and above, in the heavens.

Which is as it should be.

In the early morning hours, the streets don’t seem as festive.

The stars are turned off.

The cobbles are wet from the overnight rain.

Only the stolid old street lamps attempt a luminescent bit of cheeriness.

Except for this star. This star which still burns brightly through the night,

And into the first glowings of the dawn.

Daring you to make a wish upon this fallen star,

As it casts extraordinary shadows where once were the tables of a decent restaurant

That served a fine arrachera.

Now, in daylight, old folks and tourists sit on park benches and look at the huge tin star

And wonder, “Is that supposed to be there?”

The answer is obvious only in the night. When the lights come on. And the shadows are cast.

And the magic is performed.

Like all good stars, it is a monument for the night.

In the daylight, merely a tin curiosity that hides its powers

Very well.