The occasion was the third general meeting of the Camarines Norte Astronomical Society held at Our Lady of Lourdes College Foundation in Daet, Camarines Norte. The lecture coincided with the Perseid meteor shower last Aug. 11.
The month of August is notorious for unpredictable weather. That Saturday was not an exception. It was a cloudless, beautiful morning. We even managed to go to Bagasbas beach some six kilometers away from the town of Daet, for a short dip and refreshing sip of buko juice (young coconut). But rain clouds covered the skies in the afternoon. At past six, it began to rain until 11, the eve of the Perseid.
It was during this time that Arlen began to worry. Days before the meeting she announced and assured everybody that they will witness meteors trailing across the sky. She could not afford the students to be disappointed. I could not afford Arlen to be frustrated.
A little past 12 the rain ceased. "This is it," I said to myself. I gave them the final instructions. "Never talk to your friends; never close your eyes; focus your attention on the skies, and don’t sleep because if you do the meteors will swoop across the skies in less than a second and if you miss it, they will be gone forever."
Teachers and students, one by one, carried their own chairs and proceeded to the open field. The vice president of Lourdes College Foundation, Jeannette Kho, was also around. She also wanted to see the meteors and wish upon the stars, what wish, that I did not know.
Polaris was not visible and the moon was behind the thin layer of clouds. Photocopies of the star map distributed earlier now become useless. With only planet Mars and the red star Antares as my beacon and with the use of a compass, I was able to locate the constellation Perseus.
We fixed our sight. We waited, and waited long. Then, all of a sudden, I was awakened by the chorus of "Ayun, ang bilis (There is it. It moves so fast)."
The children saw the first meteor of the night. Then, a series of "Ayun", "Ayun pa," followed. All in all, they counted as many as 17.
Jeannette was not able to see any of the meteors. "It’s an injustice!" she said. She left and went to the faculty room, only to return with a vengeance. She brought a sleeping bag which she laid flat on the ground. She finally saw her three meteors, and probably made her three wishes.
After more than an hour of observation, rain clouds covered the skies and brought a slight drizzle. It was all over, or so I thought.
After a respite of about 30 minutes, I heard two groups, shouting "Ayun na naman." I thought they were just playing a joke or something. When I checked the commotion they were really seeing meteors again. It lasted until about 4 a.m., and finally, it was over.
We summed up the number of meteors we saw. One group said they saw 40, some said 30, others said more. Arlen saw eight, I saw only one.
I learned my lesson. On Nov. 18, during the Leonid meteor shower, I will not talk to my seat mate, I will not close my eyes; I will focus my attention on the skies, and most importantly, I will not sleep. Because if I do, the meteors will swoop across the skies in less than a second and if I miss it, they are gone forever.
(The Leonid meteor shower is more spectacular than Perseid’s. Readers may reach the author at astro@speedsurf.pacific.net.ph or visit the website of the Philippine Astronomical Society at http://www.geocities.com/philastrosoc for more information about the Leonid meteor shower.)