My brother-in-law, Steve, is a single guy with all sorts of interesting hobbies and, thankfully, he loves to share his experiences.
Thursday night he came over with his telescope so that we could all see Jupiter and her four moons. I loved peering through the telescope and seeing those shining balls and marveling at the size of our universe. And I think the kids liked it, too.
Since we were gazing at the sky, it didn’t take long for us to wonder what other things we were seeing with our naked eyes. I went back in the house and brought my iPad with a star-gazing application and we started identifying parts of constellations.
I had downloaded the app. back in August when Steve took me out to what I would consider the country so we could witness a meteor shower without much light pollution. Steve had promised to take me to witness a meteor shower a few years back as part of a Christmas gift of experiences to me he came up with after reading this blog post from December 2008 about things I have done and haven’t done. This August was the first time since then that we could have our astronomical adventure.
I remember feeling exhausted when he called at about 10 p.m. to tell me he was on his way over to our house. He had given me the choice of an 11 p.m. or 2-3 a.m. excursion and decided I would rather stay up late than get up early.
When he arrived, I packed my flashlight, bug spray and hoped for the best.
As we drove into the ‘country,’ (Again my terms here.. some of you would probably laugh at how close we were to the ‘burbs.) I started to get a little nervous. It was dark out there. And there was wildlife. And what if other people were out there, too? And then he started talking about dead end roads, an abandoned building and barn owls. Scary movies came to mind. My scary movie repertoire may be limited, but I have a very active imagination. (Maybe all that reading isn’t such a good thing!)
We turned a corner past the abandoned building in hopes of a barn owl sighting. As we got out of the car in the middle of nowhere I tried really hard to embrace the sounds of nature, but I was terrified!
What if the boogie man would show up? What would I do?
Steve played a tape of owl sounds to beckon the barn owl. The screech of the owl on the tape didn’t do much to calm my nerves, but the man’s voice announcing the species of the owl on the tape made me laugh. I couldn’t help but wonder if we were listening to some form of Baby Einstein tapes for adults.
After a few calls and no sighting, we got back in the car, turned a corner and pulled over again. We were in the middle of nowhere. And I was terrified.
Steve pulled two folding chairs out of his Jeep and we sat in them with our bottles of water and waited.
I heard grass rustling and cattle lowing, yet I couldn’t see them for the trees separating us. I hoped they weren’t mad at us and I hoped that they were behind very strong fences. And I wondered what other animals lurked.
Steve and I chatted and waited, staring at the sky, hoping to see a meteor racing across it.
Pretty soon we saw we saw headlights in the distance. They got closer. And closer.
“That car isn’t coming this way. There isn’t anything down here,” he said, trying to comfort me.
My heart raced.
“Maybe they know nothing is down here but they see our car so they are going to come get us,” I thought to myself.
Or maybe I said it out loud. I don’t remember, I just know that my heart was pounding, my mouth was dry and I could only think of the worst.
The headlights slowed. And turned. Steve was right.
We sat there for about an hour and a half, watching shimmers across the sky between sharing stories and opinions. It was a beautiful night and watching those meteors was amazing.
But then the cries of the coyotes came and I was done for the night. Never mind that there were many, many fences between me and those coyotes. Never mind that I never saw a coyote. I heard them, I have an active imagination and that was enough for me.
Steve saw my nervousness and politely asked if I was ready to go. We loaded up and headed to one more spot in hopes of coaxing an owl out for a quick fly by.
As we pulled over at this next destination in the dark, with scary trees (that I would probably think are beautiful if cycling by them in the daylight), the moon shining over us and leaves gently blowing, I tried to muster all my courage to get out of the car and enjoy wildlife.
We stepped away from the car. Steve played the tape. And we waited. And waited.
Soon we heard owls calling back and then, one zoomed right over us and landed on a nearby tree branch. It was huge and beautiful and worth every ounce of my ridiculous fear.
We stayed a bit longer in hopes of calling another one, but didn’t find one.
Watching the meteors dance through the dark night sky was amazing. Each sighting felt like such a gift.
And it’s easy to laugh at my fears now that I am back home. (I hope to break past this wimpiness, by the way. Deep down I know that the Lord is in control and I’m mostly being silly.)
I love gazing at he night sky and I really do love nature. I need to get past these issues!
Of course this story makes my mind wander back to a time in college when I traveled with a friend to Tennessee and we attempted to photograph star trails in the Great Smoky Mountains National Park. We were out there in the pitch black with her dad and step-mom when we heard thumping coming our way and were sure we were going to be devoured by bears…
But that’s another story for another day.
First, I’d like to hear from you. What stories do you have to share today?
Astronomical or not, and wimpy or not, I’d love to read ’em…
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