Can't pretend I am a big fan of
getting up in the middle of the night to watch meteors. The
moment of sunset or sunrise, or the new moon in a clear sky provides
sufficient sense of compass for my artless soul. Otherwise I
stand there in slippers while others yell "there's one!"
And I say "where?".
Nor have I
recently made the late night journey from the room where I sleep to the
open spaces of night. Last time it was many miles away in winter
time. Mercury set well below the freezing mark and no coffee,
because apparently coffee does not keep a body warm and it is coffee that
keeps one from going back to sleep when all the excitement is passed.
It was the same with that irregular sea
level phenomena the "green flash". I have been there on the
beach at dusk, and I have heard the adventure of "there it is!"
but I must have blinked.
My friend, the Close Mockingbird, has
devotion to those things that move in the sky. He'll face the morning
sun as it rises, and he'll watch the sun as it sets. And he'll sing
one of his more strident songs to call the faithful.
In the morning often he wakes me and I
grumble at him. So I imagine he has a low opinion of my own
connection to the world he understands. And perhaps one of these days
I might put on slippers, go outside in the middle of the night, stand beside
his cedar, point to the sky and shout "there's one!" Just as
loudly as I can.