After spending an hour and a half lying in a pile of fragrant oak leaves in 38 degree weather, staring at the sky, I can say with some degree of authority that tonight was a beautiful night.

I tried watching from a tree for a while, but I got some funny looks from passersby, and it was uncomfortable for long-term viewing.

So eventually I headed down to the quad (I'm at the University of Rochester), with the big illuminated spectre of Rush Rhees Library to the east. The shower was predominantly to the south. My friend and I plopped down in a big ole' pile of leaves that Groundskeeper Willie had so kindly left for us. Leaves are a great thing to be lying in on a cold night; they insulate your legs and are very comfortable. I have to remember this next time I go camping. I was unnaturally warm despite the chilly weather.

We watched from 4:00 to 5:30. I must have seen over 100 meteors. Big fucking bright ones. The ones that leave yellow paintbrush trails behind them for a second afterwards. Ones that arced across the whole sky. It was a moment that a Zen Master would not have been embarrassed becoming enlightened during.

Some people at the other end of the quad felt the need to be loud about it. That's fine. Perhaps they were playing the stargazing drinking game. But I was content to say nothing. Even if the girl of my dreams had lain down beside me, I probably would have just put my arm around her and kept watching. Or maybe said something like "Kiss me, you are beautiful. These are truly the last days." I've always wanted to say that.