Comet Neowise
“Are you ready?”
“Ready for what?” I say groggily, awakened from a post-dinner coma on the couch.
“Let’s go watch a comet.”
“You want to ride the bike up Mount Watson now? It’s more than an hour long ride, and it will be dark soon.” I reason.
Happy Dog, Happy Man
“No, let’s just drive up to Martis Peak Fire Lookout. It’s a short walk from where we park the van.”
“Isn’t it too late?” I try to use one last excuse.
“Not if we hurry.” How can I say no to a man who is always asleep in his chair after dinner way before me? I beat him tonight. I was sleeping on the couch, and there was still daylight out.
“Okay,” I say reluctantly, “Give me five.”
Jim and Pablo, eyes pealed to the sky
We walk on a path still wet after a downpour. Rain-soaked earth permeates the air, and the rose-colored sky blankets us in a butterscotch light of the evening. Monty is happily running between us, darting back and forth, peeing on every bush he passes. The exuberant gait can only belong to the happiest of dogs. We pass several people going down, returning to their cars.
“Are we too late, Jim?”
“They said comet is visible soon after the sun sets. The sun just set.”
When we arrive at the lookout, our friends Pablo and Camila, with their daughter Fiona, are still there. I pop open a bottle of wine, and we look at the blinking lights of Truckee below.
Mountain ridges are etched into the sky the color of orange sorbet. Lakes and reservoirs shimmer like large lapis lazuli gemstones strung on a necklace laid across the valley below. We wait in the Tahoe summer night, our eyes glued to the northwest skyline. Nothing. Sirius, Saturn, and Jupiter pop up brightly behind our backs; still no sign of the comet.
“We obviously missed it,” I say, slightly disappointed. We should be able to spot this three-mile wide comet Neowise, a leftover from our solar system formation 4.6 billion years ago. But our naked eyes were a bit too naked tonight. Maybe tomorrow we’ll bring our big binoculars. Maybe we’ll see it, maybe we won’t, and when it comes back around 6,8 million years from now, we’ll be the dust on its tail.
The Lakes and reservoirs in the Valley below
The sky was dark on our way back to the car, making us trip over ourselves. Monty led the way. The air was sweet, and when we arrived back home, we were happy we resisted the gravitational pull of the couch and TV. We got to be a part of the Universe under the freshly washed July sky, our lungs full of crisp mountain air.
