The Perseids

Our summers were filled with long lazy days sitting on the beach chatting with friends, swimming or sailing on the bay. Although the water was cold in the Atlantic, Cape Cod Bay was more inviting. It changed temperatures with the tides as it creeped in over the flats, drawing warmth from the hot sand. You couldn’t swim until it was at least half tide because there was no water to swim in. Provincetown Harbor has one of the most extreme tides in the world and it is a wonder to watch it empty as if the gods had pulled the plug on their bathtub. We would roam the flats that looked like Brown Edge Cookies, watching for telltale bubbles in the sand. When we saw them, we would carefully dig down with our hands or our toes to find the clams to fill our buckets. If we were unlucky, the bubbles might instead be a crab that would reach up and pinch our toes. That might make us yelp but we would be right back to it. As the water started to return, it would surround the higher mounds, creating islands that could be dangerous to those unaware that the water could get deep quickly. We laughed at the tourists who were had toted beach chairs and coolers out there only to discover that they would have to swim in.

I remember the magic of those summer days and also the magic of the summer nights. If the tide was in and the moon full, there would be a moon beam shining across the bay. It called to us to follow the light and we tried. Our friends would rig up their sailboat and we would sail as far as we dared in the darkness. We were just teenagers, but we had a good knowledge of the bay and we imagined that we could navigate by the stars. We also had the good sense not to go too far. It was a time that we could all sit quietly, listening to the water lapping on the hull and entranced by the path of the moonlight. The spell would be broken by the cry of “coming about!” and we would all duck or change sides while the boat turned and headed back for home. We had to moor out a few hundred feet from the shore and so the night would end with a swim into the steps that led from the beach to the bulkheads of the beach side homes. It was a good end to the evening.

As the end of July approached, we heard people talking about the Perseid meteor shower. We were determined to watch it and would place bets with each other on who could count the most shooting stars. The showers weren’t really visible until after midnight, best seen when the moon was new and the sky was at its darkest. Our plan was to sleep out under the stars, wrapped up in our sleeping bags staring upwards. Wendy’s deck on the water would be perfect for this adventure. There were eight of us, friends and siblings. It was a giggling, noisy group telling scary stories and sharing snacks. As the hour got later, we got quieter and lay in a line on our backs facing the sky. “bzzzz. bzzzzz” “whack!” “shit, I got bit!’ bzzzz. bzzzz, the sound was everywhere. Mosquitos, the scourge of summer, had found us and were coming in for their dinner. “Ow!” “I just had one go up my nose!”

“Hey guys!, I just saw one! A shooting star!” Where?” ”over in that part of the sky. You gotta look in that direction” “Me too! I just saw one too! “Soon, the sky seemed to fill with flashes of light streaming to the horizon. There were frequent calls of sightings and even more frequent squeals of pain as the bites kept coming. Wendy went inside and came back with insect repellant, spraying us all down with the noxious liquid. Soon, the air became too cold to be out of our sleeping bags and we all snuggled down. I fell fast asleep, curled up deep in my bag to protect myself from the buzzing vampires.

When I awoke, the sun was just rising over the bay, spilling its glorious colors across the horizon and the sand. I was wet from the heavy dew, and I was alone. All the others had left during the night, abandoning me to the cold and the bites. They were all back home, sleeping soundly, warm and dry in their beds. I cried a bit at having been left on my own, but I got to watch a meteor shower and a glorious sunrise. In my estimation, I had won the bet.