So there we were, lying on our backs on the slopes of Bluebell Hill in the middle of the night.
‘Oooh,’ squealed my neighbour, as a meteor shot through the sky like the flare let off in memory of the late West Bay harbourmaster Eric Hamblett when his ashes were scattered at sea. The flare veered off in the wrong direction and ended up setting fire to the thatched roof of the Bridport Arms. Funny really, because Eric had always been a George man.
Anyway, I digress. But that’s because the Perseids meteor shower, which I so hyped up in my blog, was a bit of a damp squib. Astronomers said it would be the best show in ages, up to 80 meteors an hour flashing through the sky. But as that’s only just over one a minute, there were long periods where we just stared so hard the constellations began to dance with each other.
The most stunning sight was Jupiter, low in the south eastern sky, and shining so brightly it almost hurt our eyes.
Plastic glass of Cava in one hand, iPod in the other, I hunted around in the dark for The Planet Suite to mask the sound of grumbling neighbours around me in the grass.
‘Fancy bringing us all the way up here just for this,’ I heard, before diving for cover under the blanket of Gustav Holst.
As I peered down to select the most fitting track, a shout rang out: ‘Wow, that was fantastic.’
I looked up. And there was nothing. Every time I went back to the iPod to find something by The Cinematic Orchestra or Air to give me a soundtrack to a starshow, there were similar shrieks of delight on the grass around me.
So I gave up searching for the music when I inadvertently pressed Bill Haley and the Comets and had Rock Around the Clock blaring in both ears. I stayed absolutely still for several million light years. I saw two shooting stars. It was about as exciting as watching a distant celestial needle darning with silver thread.
Behind me, some bewildered sheep started up a baa chorus and then the flashing lights of several aeroplanes passed through the skies in quick succession.
It was the most exciting thing to happen all evening.
Weather permitting, the Perseids can be seen again tonight. And apparently, you can see Jupiter’s four moons just with the aid of some decent binoculars.
Me? I think I’ll be having an early night.
I’ll keep you posted.
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More water
Laying on your back, in a field, in the middle of the night, staring at the sky. I would advise a drop more water with it!
Scooped
Look RB, just because you were probably lying on the pavement in Bridders somewhere, outside the kebab shop maybe and looking up at the sky, waiting to be scooped up by the Colonel Blimp who writes in to the BN every week, sometimes even twice.
Was he in the Wip Wop again this week? It takes a while to be delivered this far out in the sticks. We’re still on the issue where there was an advert for a patented ventilated hat on the front page.
Bunting out
I didn’t realise that you had seen me – oh the shame of it all. Any way good news since you are a tad behind with current affairs – good old Baden Powell has pulled it off in South Africa. So that’s one in the eye for Johnny Boer and stick that one in your pipe Kruger. Get your bunting out and rejoice!
Victory parade
I’ll stoke up the urn for the victory parade. Tea anyone?