I thought I'd missed the Perseids this year, but Dennis tells me that he saw on the local news that we'll have a good view of them tonight from here in Northern New Mexico. We are literally sailing on our planet through a meteor storm at the moment. I always find that fact rather scintillating for some reason. I imagine myself riding on Toby through a starry night, his tail streaming after us, and we are a Persied. Every August I wait for the Perseids, but occasionally I miss them because I get caught up in the everyday life stuff--husband, two gradeschool-aged kids, five horses, two dogs, working full time, and the list goes on ...

I saw a pretty good Perseid the other night, right smack dab in the middle of some of that everyday stuff, and suddenly I was reminded that yes, indeed, it is the middle of yet another August. The heeler dogs were annoying me in the middle of the night, and I trekked half-asleep and pissed off across the backyard in my nightshirt and a pair of old, worn out clogs with the wild heeler sisters (At my heels. Where else?!) to banish them to their kennel for the night. (Not exactly a severe punishment for disrupting my sleep. They have their own straw bale dog house and ample room to romp.) As I turned, disgruntled and swearing, back for the house, where my family was soundly sleeping, I was stopped in my tracks by a Perseid sailing across the jet black sky above me, bright tail flying. If I was only half awake at that point, I was certainly wide awake at that moment.

Standing in the pasture with my horses in the dark of night to watch the stars is deeply satisfying. Perhaps tonight will be Perseids, pajamas, ponies ...

I'm thinking that other people are at the cinema tonight seeing the newest release. Sometimes I think that I don't get out much.