Well, maybe not quite.
It's well into August now and raining outside. No kidding.
I stayed up late into the wee hours last night, hoping to catch a glimpse of this meteor shower everyone seems to be talking about. I caught about 5 falling stars, which considering I live in the city and can barely make out the Big Dipper anymore, is nothing to complain about.
Oh, but it's not the same.
As I sat outside on the deck gazing up at the night sky, I was suddenly back to my childhood summers spent camping with my family and cousins. All of us kids would struggle to stay awake as long as our eyes would let us to watch this phenomenon. After we were bored of campfire songs and the fire burnt out, we would all grab our blankets, lawnchairs and sleeping mats and sprawl out in a large clearing where the trees seemed to present the sky proudly. Sprawled out in a disorderly circle, our heads touching, little outstretched arms pointed out spotted satellites, and one by one we would nod off.
Yes, even a satellite was a big deal. They were nowhere as near in abundance as they are today, which is sort of a shame.
Falling Stars were unlimited and satellites were few; today, the opposite is true.
So as I sat there last night trying to spot the burning lights shooting across the dark sky made light again from the city, I was able to relish a time I will always hope to return to: when everything was carefree and the life was as wondrous as the night sky.
