Looking Up and Looking Down

If I were a painter, I would have to paint a canvas of Roger and me sleeping out on the deck under a snug down comforter with meteor showers and planets twirling over us. There is something about waking and looking up at a star-filled sky and seeing meteor after meteor shooting across. It is a deep and satisfying reminder that we really are on a planet whirling in a galaxy, among a billion galaxies. From the time I was young, I have wished we could see stars and planets during the day. I wanted the fact of our speck of dust existence to be omnipresent. A balance to our insane homo sapien sense of exceptionalism.

Some of the meteors we saw were mere hints of moving light, but others took our breaths away and made us giddy, like kids. "Oh wow, did you see that?" "Whoa, look over there." Whoosh. Gone. Neither of us can remember when we first started loving August for the chance to see the Perseid showers, but it's from very early on in our relationship. We've been out under the stars everywhere we've lived, but have not seen showers like these before.

The night here is very dark. We could see the dustiness of the Milky Way directly overhead. A single planet shone in the southern sky. I was reminded of the different skies I've seen over the years. How a mere handful of stars dots the skies of southern California on the clearest nights, or how the millions of stars in a prairie sky shine with such depth and multi-dimensionality you can get disoriented and feel the planet actually spin beneath your feet. Here there are plenty of stars, but less of that awesome depth. The lights of Sacramento 60 miles away must leak into our darkness.

We stare up for as long as we can (it's 4:00 in the morning!), saying we'll go back to sleep right after the next one, and then the one after that. Pretty soon we really are sleeping, and the meteors go on flying over us, even when we're not looking. That's what I would paint, if I could.

Roger continues to heal quite well. We've managed to do some good hiking and even took a short trip to the Yuba River. There, it is just as much fun to stare down into the clear and sparkling waters and see the light glint brightly off the river stones and the shiny scales of very friendly fish, as it is to stare up into the Perseid night skies of August.

1. Top pic taken off the internet without permission. I could never get a shot like this.

2. Roger stood in the Yuba River to get this shot. There were so many of these 12 inch fishes, and they were curious about him and fearless.