A few nights ago, a story flashed across a newsfeed and...it was of the irritating variety, as so many of them are. I mean, we want to be informed, as adults we really ought to be, but it's almost like getting a kid to eat their vegetables at times -- an utter chore. Well, I always loved vegetables, but I find news & Earthly concerns to frequently be a chore.Anyway, one of the comments stated, "You should tell people about the Lyrids instead."
He was right. Meteor showers are
much more interesting than humans.
And thank you sir, because it WAS a celestial event that'd escaped my knowledge!
I wish I could take photographs of meteors to share with you, alas I'm just not that sophisticated. Instead I'll share the dead of night and a moon of odd color, hanging low in the sky. For this is what it does around 4 a.m. before it enveloped by the horizon, as it's twin's solar light reaches it less and less from such angles.
It's a good thing I'm a vampire again or I probably couldn't have made it that far into the night/morning -- laying there on my back...in silence. Mostly. My first attempts were joined by a cricket, whom may have achieved it's sole opportunity to
ever be described as "spooky". Hey, in pitch black, a random and moving creaking sound (this was less like a traditional chirp) is disconcerting -- as is the thought of it jumping on your face. Congrats, grasshopper, I moved to the other side of the roof.
I'm not proud of it.
But, I did. *ahem*
It may make it more or less magical to you, but the light of meteors aren't caused by the rock/debris themselves (often the size of a pea or even smaller), rather the
disturbance of Earth's atmosphere; it is it's own microcosm of the butterfly effect.
The Lyrid shower is what could be described as a slow burn. You can easily stare for fifteen minutes and see nothing. It's not promising dramatics or quite as generous as other showers. Typically, that is, for there have been historical exceptions. It was the temptation of
just such exceptions though, that kept me up there in two pairs of pants, gloves, and a winter jacket. What if a stellar rock concert suddenly took place and I missed it by minutes?! Information on these things can be darn annoying to find, your world wide Internet be damned. It said look Northeast. It said it would originate near Vega, which would be about
directly above at the right time. Mn-hm.
Now...San Francisco is foggy. It is often so foggy that you cannot see anything at all at night, even if it was frying you all day, for weeks, in blaring sun. As it has been lately. *grumble*
Look out your evening window and a combination of fog, soot, and light pollution in the
skyline may convince you that it's not worth bothering. Persevere, and you may get rewarded that UP ABOVE...there is still plenty of clear sky.
In other words: put your coat on lazy bones, go outside, and stare all around for the
final analysis. I took comfort to know that astronomer buffs in England feel my pain and probably have it even worse (found on a blog by a British stargazer).
You have to be careful not to let your eyes play tricks on you. Pick a quadrant of sky and stick with it for a while; if you let your eyes roam even briefly...you could miss your meteor! I'm not content until I see a good, bright streak in my immediate or slight peripheral -- something I thought I saw out of the corner of my eye counts less. And as I was getting frustrated, as I find will happen, the universe laughed and delivered.
Totally not Northeast, nor upward.
More like Southwest & mid-sky.
So it goes.
I also saw tiny streaks, which are perfectly acceptable as well. However. This is the first time I was clearly aware of "slow" meteors. What is that? It's a spot, that looks like a star, but moves. And it moves faster than a plane (not to mention it is smaller and far higher up). Yeah, that's weird. The first thing I saw really didn't add up, like a blurry orange cloud.
But the other slow meteors had an effect like parts of the big dipper decided they needed a vacation, then picked up, and slowly, but steadily, moved across the sky and out of view for all time...no tail, no flare or dramatics.
Just a glowing eye-mote echoing through spacetime.It confirmed for me, though, that strange things I'd seen in the sky before were likely a version of this.
Not necessarily aliens.
Bummer, I know.
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