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.