The Perseids, my favorite night-sky event since I can remember, have eluded me the past few years.
I'm bummed.
Me thinks it is time to join a sky-watching group. Those who meet at night, in remote areas, surrounded by rich darkness to see what us suburbanites can't. Stars. Comets. Meteors. The beautiful night.
The stars, I sorely miss. Those few we can see, I cherish.
As for the Perseids . . .
I recall childhood summer camp-outs in the backyard. Eyes to the August sky. My parents, my brother and me.
As years went on, it would be my brother and I. Watching for the fireball. We'd always see at least one. The one so bright, burning from horizon to horizon. Sizzling in its flight, trailing a tail of smoke.
That ... I miss.
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