Gaining Perspective from the Perseids
How big is forever?
On the night the Perseid meteor showers peaked, I went outside about 10pm. I wanted to see if they were visible that early in the night. Sleep could wait.
My back porch faces northeast, where Perseus rises over the Sangre de Cristo mountains. I sat in my camp chair and waited for my eyes to adjust. Right away, a shooting star quietly streaked across half the sky. Over the next couple minutes, a few smaller meteors darted out from between the stars.
I went back into the darkened house and got my sleeping bag. I laid the Kelty on the grass and snuggled down into it to protect myself from the chilly high desert breeze. Señor, the dog, was lying next to me.
Crickets sang to each other from opposite ends of the yard. A bird or bat was swooping in and out of the portal, and dogs barked in the distance as I scanned the sky for shooting stars.
The serenity, the dark of night, and the coziness of my sleeping bag dissolved my protective walls. I suddenly felt vulnerable. My muscles released their tension, and my body sank into the womb that was my Kelty.
All we have is each other
I thought about my friends, the ones I’d known for decades and those I was just getting to know — the moms who…
