S
ands shift softly on hissing winds. Night falls cool upon the desert. Scurrying creatures of darkness venture from their lairs, obtain a quick meal and hurry back to the familiar amenity of hole, cave or crevasse. Flames dance and coals glow as learned men gather around the firelight, peering over parchments. “There is no such star listed in any of our charts,” one of them observed.
“Do you always feel the need to explain the obvious,” responded a colleague. Sarcasm and irritability were inevitable. They were embarrassed. They were educated men who had encountered something within their field of expertise they could not explain. Such an event was close to shameful. Intellectual arrogance has forever been the hallmark of men of science. Often they speak with insufferable objectivity of the “things we know” and the “things we don’t know.” Yet no matter how absolute their answers on either side of that equation, time all too often proves them wrong and they are embarrassed. It is unacceptable for those who deal in natural phenomena to be mistaken.
They could not surmise from whence the sidereal phenomenon came. It was at first thought to be a “meteor” tracing a trail of flames and vapor across the expanse of early evening. A wondrous thing to most, to these men, no. Watchers of the sky as they were, they had observed meteors many times. The uniqueness of size and shape, the distinctness of its flaming trail challenged their expertise. Of course, it held some portent. Such an event happened not without some meaning to interpret. Then something spectacular occurred. The “meteor” slowed in the sky and then stopped, as if the Creator were adding a new ornament to an already glittering meadow of lights. It might have blended with the rest of the stars of the night sky, but for its brilliance. And something else: If you stood absolutely still, you could see distinct and uncomplicated movement. Pulsating, as if it were alive.
Many were drawn by the phenomenon but only these astrologers chose to heed. Only they followed, their caravan auspicious but modest in size. Their raiment laced with gold and silver. Jewels on their fingers, around their necks, affixed to their robes. Harnesses of their camels richly appointed. They were First Advisors to the king, Magi, magicians, scholars of the night. The celestial anomaly was something that evoked curiosity in the sophisticated and fear in the superstitious. Thus the caravan consisted of men far above the mass of curious onlookers. These men represented an elite. They were wise. Shaman, Savants they were. They would not be followed, yet many wondered what they would discover.
