The car crunched over gravel as it pulled off to the side of the road.The car crunched over gravel as it pulled off to the side of the road. The valley was spread in a carpet of yellow, white, and reddish lights out to the bulk of Mount Diablo, invisible in the haze except for its red beacon, blinking like an eye off in the distance. The steady stream of conversation that had been maintained since the restaurant and the coffeehouse died out as they climbed out of the car. "It's cold out here," she said, as the first gust of the nighttime valley wind hit her. "Well, take something from the leather parking zone in the back," he said, reaching into the back seat and grabbing at a dark leather object of uncertain description, which turned out to be his jacket. It was August 11th, the maximum of the Perseid meteor shower, nearly 11 o'clock. Not as impressive as the Leonids yet to come in 1999 (a meteor shower in that year! The Millenial cultists will love it, he thought), but still, a meteor shower none the less. He had added an invitation to go meteor shower viewing to the end of a friendly dinner and coffee date, certain that she would see it as the transparent pass that it might be, and turn him down flat (politely, but flat. But she hadn't, and now he was in the awkward position of having to decide if he had meant it as a pass or amateur astronomy. A large crowd was gathered along the side of the road, a vista point overlooking Concord, Walnut Creek, Pleasant Hill. Off back the road, he could see a news crew roaming through the hillside, blazing away with their hundreds-of-Watts video lights, asking people, "Have you seen any meteors?" "Uh, until you deprived me of my eyesight for several hours, why yes, yes I did, sir." Fortunately, they were far enough away to be spared their fifteen second of fame, and retain their night vision. |