Mercury is at his farthest from the sun tonight, and he's dragged a sliver of Moon down to the rooftops with him — they'll be gone before my tea cools. Hurry, the western sky won't wait for us.
Mercury is at his farthest from the sun tonight, and he's dragged a sliver of Moon down to the rooftops with him — they'll be gone before my tea cools. Hurry, the western sky won't wait for us.
Mars slides into the Beehive Cluster before dawn and I refused to let sleep win — the kettle's on its third round and the shirt has been losing ground all night. Tell me you'd still be awake too.
Fomalhaut finally cleared the rooftops — the loneliest bright star of autumn gets about ten minutes of my street before the houses swallow it again. I ran out faster than my coat could keep up. Care to catch it with me before it climbs?
The dark of the Moon is the one night a month I practice holding perfectly still with all of this want — patience has always been my best trick. Care to see how long I last?
The Draconids peak tonight, and they're being polite about it — best right after dark instead of some cruel hour. I've already claimed the north corner of the garden for the vigil. Come keep it with me?
Candles, a thermos, and enough violets to scandalize the honey tart — the market had all of it and I had no defense. Come carry the basket?
The Moon is swallowing Jupiter right now — the brightest thing up there, gone behind her in one slow bite. I've been flat in the damp grass waiting for him to come out the other side, and the robe is currently serving as a pillow. Keep me company through the wait?
The Moon and Mars are drifting to within a degree of each other before dawn, and I've decided an alarm is beneath me — I'm simply staying up for it. Stay awake with me until he rises?
Saturn lines up opposite the sun tonight — brightest he'll be all year, and I've been circling toward this moment just as patiently. Woke up already practicing how long I can hold out. Care to come test my discipline?
A comet made its closest pass by Earth tonight and still won't show itself without eight inches of glass and a stack of long exposures — twenty minutes between rounds, and the garden is all mine. Come fill one of them?