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Thursday, October 11, 2012

STAR GAZERS excerpts II (a memory)

Oops. Started this with, "Close your eyes and let me take you back to one of those magical moments." Duh! You couldn't read the post if you closed you eyes. So, let me start over…as you read this, feel the peace and awe of an 11 year old child enter your heart and bring you a moment of peace:
The year was 1977. We were in Red Mesa, Arizona. The closest town of any size was nearly 100 miles away, a million to a kid. Anyway…my brothers and I had a sleepover with the Hearne kids. We had the sleeping bags spread out on the sandy dunes of the remote settlement. The radio was tuned to 77KOB out of Albuquerque, NM. We were awaiting Vincent Price to scare the bejeez out of us via The Radio Horror Theatre hour. As we filled our incessant appetites with hotdogs, pork n’ beans, chips, cookies, fruit, and coffee (yes! addicted at 5). Howwwwl! {{{jump}}} there is was…the start of the chorus of coyote howls. They would get closer as the night wore on.
Patience growing thinner, we battled with sticks. We had gathered this night for the light show.  A huge meteor shower. As we listened to Vincent Price slowly ease between the howl of the night, the clouds started rolling in. Oh no! Not tonight. Soon the sky was blanketed with clouds. It is so dark that you might be able to see an inch in front of you, if you strain with bug-eyes! Ahaha. Anyway…
Not allowing this night to be ruined, Sylvia and I began talking about the universe and spirituality. She and I always thought and talked “outside the box.” We let the other “kids” talk Scooby Doo and Gilligan. As we chatted, I felt her disappointment in the lack of starlight and meteor sightings. I asked her to believe that something would happen and she agreed. I promise on my quill that this is true. A small opening appeared in the clouds, perhaps the size of a silver dollar if you held it at arms length. Through this opening, we saw four or five streaks of light. I turned to look at her and only saw the reflection of the shooting stars in her eyes. That is the moment I started believing in magic again. The squeezed my hand and said, “We did it. We made it happen.” The forgotten coyotes and radio slowly eased back into the ambiance of the night. I fell asleep beyond content that night.

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