Reflections on the Eighth Week of Summer

 

  Wednesday after dark, Spence and I turned off the garage lights so we'd have a better view of the Perseid Meteor Shower. We walked back to the log house through a canyon of dark while stars glittered overhead. A pair of screech owls chatted. The Big Dipper spread over the north garden, tiny meteors zipped by in thin light lines, and a shooting star streaked over the tree nursery.

  We slept till 3:00 a.m. Thursday. In night clothes, we felt our way outside and across the porch to gaze at the north sky. Cassiopeia had replaced the dipper, the Milky Way ran like a river above the driveway, and Perseus, the constellation from which the Perseid meteors radiate, glowed center sky. Greeks had imagined Perseus in battle dress with a sword in one hand and the head of Medusa in the other. To me, the nineteen stars looked like a stick figure of a walking ostrich. Cicadas droned. We stared up and waited. A meteor would streak, I'd ooh, then we'd wait for another. Spence said, “It's like watching slow motion sparklers.” By the time we'd seen nine shooting stars and lots of spritzing lines, my legs had chilled and neck ached.

  But, I wanted to check the south sky. From the deck we gazed over the south garden. Condensed water trickled down the gutter. With wait time in between, three large meteors soared past. Through the screen door, the cats mer-owed their discontent at our unusual night time behavior.