8.13.23
Last night, around one o’clock, I woke up and quietly headed into the living room. Every now and then when the Perseid’s meteor shower presents itself I like to bundle myself up in shawls and lay out on the front deck to partake in this heavenly event. Last night did not disappoint. As I lay there for around an hour, the light show, a bit slow at first, gathered momentum. Staring up at the dark expanse overhead, seeing the swath of the Milky Way cutting its path through the twinkling myriad of stars that fill our sky made me feel very small, very insignificant.
As I watched, a sudden streak of light was caught in my peripheral vision. By the time I turned my head it was gone. Settling back, I let my eyes soften, no longer sharply focusing on one area of the sky but allowing myself to take the whole sky in, to let the star gazing just happen. Within seconds, another little streak of light was off to my right, I acknowledged it but kept my focus wide and then a brilliant golden flash cut through the sky right overhead. The meteor left a streaming tail of light behind; it must have been a whopper! Had I turned my head to glance at the other I would have missed the glorious display right over me. Soon, it seemed as if streaks were everywhere, left, right and center all heading in the same direction as they entered earth’s atmosphere from the northwest yet every now and then the occasional small streak would cross the sky from a totally different direction.
Yes, it was quite a show for the time I spent out there gazing up at the heavens. It gave me a lot to think about too. My mind went back to when I was a wee little girl. How, when coming out of a village pub late at night with my father after he had called in there for a pint of stout, he would have me look up into the night sky and pick out a brightly shining star, telling me that was my mum looking down on me from heaven. Little did I know at the time that my mother was alive and well in Canada! Years later, after finding out my mother had passed away and learning she was not the ogre so often presented to me by my father, I would – and still do – look upwards at night and pick out that brightly shining star, telling myself that was my mother, looking down on me, searching for me still.
As a youngster, when I would lie and stare at the night sky, I often used to think that somewhere up there, far, far away on one of those bright spots of light another little girl was laying on her back too, doing just as I was, gazing upwards and wondering if another little girl was gazing upwards and thinking the same thing. Funny, I still do that too!
Last night I just let myself be filled with the moment. I did not think about what was on the agenda for tomorrow, did not let worries intrude but just let myself be. I had gone to bed worried about my dearest Darrell because he had not felt well during the day and was running a slight temperature. He is not one to fall under the weather so my concern for him had not let me get much rest. It is hard not to worry about the one you love. After watching the light show for a while, I headed back to bed, surreptitiously reaching over to feel Darrell’s forehead, relieved to find it was now cool.
This morning I am still filled with that sense of peace which came over me as I lay on the front porch last night. It is a new day. The sun is just peeking over the horizon as I finish my first cup of tea and get ready to head down to the milkhouse to relieve Heidi of a few gallons of milk. It is so quiet. Looking out the front door I see the cows contentedly grazing in the upper field. The garden is filled with lush greenery, Darrell’s corn stands tall and with the coming hot days ahead, we may even be able to harvest an ear or two next week. The morning breeze is cool and invigorating. It almost has an autumnal feel to it which makes one think, despite the predicted hot weather for the next week or so, that we may be instore for an early winter. We will take what we get and make the most of it although like a squirrel furiously harvesting and storing nuts here and there before winter’s onslaught, we have the urge to get our woodsheds filled to the brim sooner rather than later!
Draining the last dregs of tea from my cup, I am ready to face the day. Heidi is patiently waiting by the milk paddock gate, so I had better get cracking. Let the day begin…