Back Steps (use for storytelling class on 6/20/05)

My dogs want out late at night to clear out the thing they sense in the backyard. Usually it is racoons, who climb into the trees and drive Ben and Maggie nuts. (my border collies). I go out to hush the dogs, and sit on the steps for a while, taking in the pleasant feel of the summer night. The leaves are usually rustling in the cottonwoods over to the south. Those trees have gotten tall, and reach up to the stars that hang just above their tops. This time of year I look out at Scorpius, the constellation that chases Orion out the sky.

I remember a time when Ben and Maggie went with me on a November night to watch the stars. We ate at dusk and were sound asleep by seven - out on the prairie, where were no lights and no sounds, save for the coyotes that yipped right after dark.

At 1AM I got up to see the Leonid meteor showers. Ben and Maggie came out of the tent with me, and curled up on top of my sleeping bag, to capture some of my warmth on that cold night. The shooting stars started slowly, one every minute or so at first. At 3am they came on strong - such that when I looked over to the horizon I would see multiple stars falling and fading away, that reminded me of raindrops from the heavens. I saw five at once, arranged like the 5 dice - with four in the corners and one in the middle, all traveling at the same speed and direction. Needless to say I was wide awake, all night, thrilled by the show. I knew I was witnessing something rare and special. Scientists later said the falling stars on that night - November 18, 2001, were very close to the rate of a Meteor storm - 1,000 per hour. It was the best shooting star show in 35 years, and we may not see another one like it in my lifetime. I finally went back to sleep at 5am.

A few years before that I got my daughters up at 2am on a March night - a school night. I loaded them and the dogs into the car for a drive up to Echo Lake on Mt Evans to see the comet Hyakutake. It was darn cold when we piled out of the car at 10,000 feet, but what we saw made the frigid temperatures and lost sleep a small deal. The comet stretched out across a blanket of stars in the alpine sky. I held my arm up to measure it - it went from my elbow all the way tomy wrist. I watched my girls standing beside the spruce, next to the frozen lake with their dogs, staring up into the heavens, and was awful glad to be a Dad.

Its such a rewarding experience to have children to share what you love, to tell your stories to, to take walks with as they grow up. I made my share of mistakes, like most parents do, but I hope that some of what I am has been a positive influence on them, that will remain with them.

I guess my hope is that they will retain a yearning to raise their heads now and again, to pay attention to the the mystery and beauty as the heavens spin around our place on this earth, to have a feeling of awe and respect and love for the natural world.

But they have their own lives now, and I have mine, sitting on the steps with Ben and Maggie, listening for racoons in the yard, listening to the night breezes, looking up at Scorpius, and its big red star Anteres, brightest star in the southern summer sky.