My wife and I are not adventurous by nature. So when something comes along that makes us stray beyond our usual bounds, it must be pretty significant. Why we thought that viewing the Leonid meteor shower would be that significant, I am not sure. But, it seemed like a groovy thing to do. After all, the newspapers and various Internet articles made a big deal of it. We made our plans.
For the uninformed, this year's Leonid meteor shower display occurred on Sunday morning (11/18) and was supposed to be one of the most spectacular Leonid viewings in decades. It occurs when the Earth passes through an old comet tail. The significance of this year's timing is that it occurs at a new moon, thus making the sky dark and hence makes the meteors more visible. Articles I read predicted a meteor rate of one every second to one every ten seconds.
We set the alarm for 4:30 AM. We haven't been up like that in the middle of the night since we bought those cheap tickets for Cancun. Made a big pot of coffee for the thermos, put on warm clothes that we had set aside the night before, grabbed the digital camera (hence justifying this column) and headed out for the beach. We assumed that being on the beach would be nice - a large, unobstructed field of view and the sound of the waves lapping at our feet.
Now friends, the best thing for us to do would have been to just look out the window first and see what kind of weather was out there. But, lured into false comfort by the spectacularly clear and beautiful days we have had recently, we didn't. If we had, we would have been back in bed right there and then.
We bundled the coffee, coffee cups, snacks, hats, gloves, scarves, lap blanket, camera, and the trusty portable beach-bench into the car and headed on towards the beach. We got there, and there was a sign and a chain across the dump saying, "Closed on Thanksgiving". Wait. Wrong story. Sorry Arlo...
We got there and looked up. Nothing. Not a star. Not a meteor. Nothing. Complete overcast. But, we reasoned, it should burn off towards sunrise. So we parked the beach-bench, poured coffee from the thermos, and settled in. The breeze was invigorating, and waves proved a pleasant background to our conversation. The time passed...
The wind blew cold. The darned cold waves lapped at our feet. The birds were even hiding. Our conversation deteriorated. Our teeth chattered. And still no meteors. At about 5:30, we packed it in. We headed for Russell's for breakfast, where we found a bunch of other similarly minded people, all with roughly the same story.
As I sit here and write this, my wife has gone back to bed. The digital camera is back in its case. The sun has come up; I gaze out my window at an overcast sky. But, it seems to be breaking up. Perhaps we can hit the beach later. But, it won't be the same.
(Bob Seidel is a local computer consultant in the Southport / Oak Island area. You can visit his website at www.bobseidel.com or e-mail him at bsc@bobseidel.com).