meteor showers and then some

Eva and I sat outside last night with Maxwell and Magoo, watching the sky for meteors in the Perseid Meteor Shower. We saw a few, although not as many as we had hoped for, but definitely more than last year when it was clouded out. I always forget how meteors are an exercise in fleeting. I want to hold onto them for a split second longer to make sure I really saw what I think I saw. I did. Because they are also an exercise in trust. Yes, I trust that I really did see that flit of light sweeping across the sky, the one that I have been hoping for, sitting-outside-for-the-last-hour-combing-the-sky-with-my-eyes-for...

We played games and said things out loud to one another like, "I want us both to see a magnificent meteor at the same time that leaves no doubt that it is *indeed* a meteor," or "I want to see another bat." And then we would rejoice, "Look, it IS another bat. Right there! Right across the sky."

That part was the best. (Meaning, all of it.) I enjoyed sitting outside, looking up at the sky, searching for meteors and watching stars twinkle into sight. I pointed out a few constellations and remembered when I used to know most of the summer evening sky by heart. By sight. And Eva talked. She talked and told stories and concerns and worries and jokes. She pointed out bats and wished for raccoons and brought us both giant pillows from the living room to rest on. She turned out extra lights. And that part was the best. (The time with Eva.) The talking time. The quiet outside in the summer-time-night-time.

And then we came inside and she was so tired and satisfied with out meteor-time-together that she barely made it to bed before she was {almost} asleep.