In the small mountain town of Pine Ridge, where the nights are usually as quiet as the softly falling snow, Jamie Doe was known as the man with the camera. He wasn't a professional photographer; he was just someone who loved the stars. Every night, after his family had gone to bed, Jamie would step out into the cold, his breath forming clouds in the air, and set up his tripod and camera, pointing it towards the heavens. The locals often joked that Jamie was trying to catch a star. Little did they know, one night, he would catch something even more spectacular. It was a night like any other, with the chill of the mountain air biting at his fingertips as he adjusted the focus on his lens. The sky was a canvas of darkness, dotted with the twinkling lights of distant galaxies. Jamie had been out for hours, the cold seeping through his jacket, but he had a feeling in his gut that tonight was different. As the clock struck midnight, a streak of green sliced through the sky. It was so bright, so close, it seemed as if it was just over the next ridge. Jamie's heart raced as he realized what was happening—a meteor, a brilliant green meteor, was dancing across the sky, and his camera was pointed right at it. He held his breath, not daring to move, as the shutter clicked again and again, capturing the meteor's fiery descent. The green tail of the meteor was like a brushstroke from an unseen artist, painting a fleeting masterpiece in the night sky. When the light show ended, Jamie finally exhaled, his breath once again visible in the night air. He looked at the back of his camera and saw it—the perfect shot. The green meteor, the mountain's silhouette, the stars above; it was all there, just as he had seen it. The next day, Jamie's photograph was the talk of the town. People came from all over to see the image of the green meteor over Pine Ridge.