The Last Adventurer

Just before I drifted off, I could have sworn I saw something race across the night sky. So, for another half hour I feverishly watched, but saw nothing unusual. A little before two, my alarm went off, and I groggily wandered outside. The moon had set. It was as dark as it was going to get, which was not very dark, due to the ambient light pollution from a number of sources. I wasn’t going to complain though; I was just happy the moon had set. I swung my arms back and forth to warm up. Clouds were seeping into the western horizon and struggling to make it over the mountains. I knew that eventually, they would pass over my vantage spot; but I just hoped that it was dawn by that point. I re-set the camera, watching the sky and waiting. The stars swirled slowly under the dome of the sky. Planes flew to unknown destinations overhead. Nothing appeared.

I went back to the car. Pink had already crawled back in her sleeping bag. Grimly, I told her that I hadn’t seen anything. I kept looking up, and seeing nothing but long distant light reaching the earth. The shutter clicked shut again. It was after three in the morning. Still nothing appeared to streak across the surface of the sky.

“This is stupid.” Pink said suddenly from her cave. “Let’s go home.”

I looked up at the sky forlornly, hoping that a sudden stream of streaks would cascade across the sky. Nothing happened.

“Ok.” I said tiredly. I gathered the camera, tripod, and arranged my gear in the back of the car and got the car started. The whole way back to San Diego, Pink had her face pressed against window. It wasn’t the best way to see meteors by any means, which was probably why the long ride back was punctuated by the same comment: “I don’t see anything.” Eventually, we made it through the eastern foothills, and descended into the cloud deck, and then under the cloud deck, at which point, we definitely didn’t see any meteors – or stars for that matter.

We arrived home as the sky was beginning to glow, and the birds were singing their morning sounds. I collapsed into bed, and didn’t think about how I would have to carry the gear in the car back upstairs, and the seats back downstairs the next day. I woke up around mid-day, and stumbled out to the kitchen to find some lunch, brunch or whatever sounded good. As I picked through the Sunday paper, while trying to keep my dog away from my food, I thought about the previous night. It had been frustrating; and in some respects, a total debacle. However, the whole incident made me smile, mainly because it was so absurd. So much effort had gone into seeing the meteor shower; but we hadn’t seen anything; but, at least we had the story – and that, perhaps, I mused, was better than any photo, because it was much more entertaining.