How hard to realize that every camp of men or beast has this starry firmament for a roof

“How hard to realize that every camp of men or beast has this starry firmament for a roof ...And are sailing the celestial spaces without leaving any track.” John Muir

One of the true benefits of growing up in a sleepy town on a lake is that you become quite well acquainted with the stars. Whether you’re lying in a sleeping bag at the lakefront on a quiet summer night, or staring skyward during a break in skating on the frozen expanse in the dead of winter, the stars in their courses were always there to greet you.

It also meant there were plenty of folks to teach you the finer points of the planets, the Milky Way, and the constellations. I became familiar with the fact that the appearance of Orion meant winter was right around the corner, and that his disappearance meant summer was here at last. I learned the story of vain Cassiopeia, forever destined to look towards the heavens for half the year, only to be forced to hang upside down facing the mortal earth during the other half. I joined the legions of children who learned that the “Drinking Gourd” (the Big Dipper) pointed the way to Polaris and freedom for escaped slaves heading north. I knew that the first and brightest star you saw in the evening sky was usually not a star at all, but the planet Venus - though for the life of me, I could never really distinguish a planet by its constant light as compared to the “twinkling” of the stars.

Growing up in the sixties, I also witnessed an early mark made by humankind’s hand on the nightly dance in the sky. I have vivid memories of a cold winter night when adults as well as children took a break from skating and cocoa to watch a shocking new phenomenon pass overhead. It was Echo, an early, very primitive weather satellite resembling a giant beach ball that caught our imagination that night. If you strained your eyes very hard and focused on the spot where it was expected to appear to the north, a very dim but constant light would emerge every 20 to 30 minutes or so and trace a stately arc across the sky. To those assembled, it was astonishing: we had added a star to the sky and put our thumbprint on the ageless heavens for the first time in history. Of course, by now we have added countless orbiting objects to our very crowded sky, but I still find it fun to point out the unblinking light of an artificial satellite to those around me.

But there are streaking lights in the night sky that were even more breathtaking to my young eyes, and they are at their peak this very week - the Perseid Meteor Showers! My mother claimed she once witnessed the night’s greatest light show, the Aurora Borealis, from our backyard, but that was years before I was born and I have yet to experience it personally. So for me, shooting stars are the greatest show off earth. The Perseid show hits its highest density in mid-August each year, with up to 90 to 100 visible meteors per hour during prime viewing hours. Whether or not you have seen the meteor showers, experts are predicting that this will be one of the best displays in the northeast in years, so try not to miss it!

Several factors contribute to this year’s forecast, not the least of which is that the moon will not be in evidence to work against the meteors with its reflected light. It is also expected to be relatively clear during the peak days, which begin this Wednesday the 11th and continue through the weekend. Observing shooting stars can take your breath away with their dramatic and unpredictable nature and can be a great family activity, if you don’t mind staying up a bit late. Here are some tips for the best approach to maximize your chance of seeing the Perseids in their full glory:

• First and foremost, get away from ground light. Go camping, visit friends out in the country, or just turn off all your lights; ground light is the biggest detractor from enjoying the night sky.

• You have to stay up late. Prime viewing is from midnight to dawn, so try taking a nap beforehand, or better yet, celebrate the end of summer by letting the kids (and yourself!) stay up later than usual.

• Find a spot that gives you a clear view of the northeast sky (the portion of the sky in which the morning sun rises). It’s the rotation of the earth towards the trail of the remains of the comet Swift-Tuttle that causes the shower, and the earth rotates towards the northeast.

• Give yourself some time to adjust to the lack of light. You may have to sit for at least 45 minutes to allow your eyes to fully adjust to the dark. If you need to bring along a light, find or make a red-filtered flashlight. You can use that and not cause your eyes to regress from night vision mode. Allow your focus to roam a bit; often you catch the beginning of a meteor trail best from your peripheral vision.

• Bring along a blanket or a lounge chair that allows you to recline comfortably, and dress warmly, even during our recent hot evening weather.

Give it a try - you won’t be disappointed, and you and those with you will be filled with the joy of the timelessness of the universe and the never-predictable nature of life. You can fill the time waiting for your eyes to adjust by telling the stories of the stars to a young person. Waiting for them up there is the fearless Perseus, the beautiful Andromeda, the strong Hercules, and bears, lions, scorpions, and other animals galore. They have been there for untold millenniums, tracing their steps night after night, just waiting for you to raise your eyes and learn their story. Oh, and don’t forget to make a wish…

Have a great week!