I missed the Leonids. At 11:00 it was hazy, and the high full moon cast a triple halo, bigger than three constellations, bigger than two spread hands. The whole sky haze full of its grey glow.
At 4:00 the alarm went off for the second peak. A peek out the window showed the the sky was covered in cloud, which closed out the darkness as neatly as a sheet over a canary cage. I read a little about the captivity of Joan of Arc, and drifted back to sleep.
All day soft rain fell into new snow. By afternoon only scattered scales of snow were left in ragged grasses. By evening, wet brown pavement of leaves. The sour smell of tannin coming out of them.
Potato soup on the stove, now, what my great-grandmother called winter soup, hunger soup. Made of things that keep in cellars: onion, potato, parsnip. A warm smell, the dull sky shut out by steamed windows. Hope for a change coming: an aurora is likely on Thursday or Friday.
At midnightish I went out here, saw the moon had a halo, bright as can be though. But I could see Orion, and a few other constellations and such. So I waited in a dart spot away from the orage-yellow sodium street lamps, with my neck craned, head all the way back. I saw one meteor, waiting a bit longer, but my neck got tired. Slept through the night instead of waking up later. A colleague saw 6 meteors, but was expecting better.
Erin, if you see the aurora again, would you do me a favour and call me? Even if it's late at night.
Gorgeous language, as always. I particularly liked the scattered scales of snow. Also the thought of dull sky shut out by steamed windows - it amazes me how you turn everyday events into lyrical images. Thank you for sharing!