Nightly Adventure

There's a metal building I had built years ago that I call the barn.  It's got two roll up doors that face the house, and there's a gigantic fig tree, a shed and a couple of apple trees in between.  It's fig season, so the fig tree is loaded.

This evening I sat down there just inside the roll up door, and watched the night set in.  The day birds disappear, and the owls and bats come out and flutter about.  I was motionless, so I had a front row seat to the early nightly activities, which consisted of five different skunks running past the barn and up under the fig tree, where they proceeded to bicker and scuffle with each other.  I couldn't see them in the gloom, but I could certainly hear them under there in the dry leaves hunting for figs.

One must have been bullied, as it suddenly came out from under the tree and scampered back to the other side of the barn.

You could sure hear the owls screeching as they woke up and began their nightly flights.  I'd hate to be a small rodent with no cover in this country.

No Perseid meteors that I saw, but the youngest daughter, who is now out on the deck, says she's seen four of them so far.

For best results, get away from city lights. Dress warmly, lie down on a blanket in a safe, dark place, and look up. Perseids can appear in any part of the sky, although all of their tails will point back toward the radiant in the constellation Perseus.