The Convergence and the Dome of A Bald Man

Posted on December 2, 2008 in Weather

I witnessed the “frowning face” half of the convergence spectacle last night before I drove down the hill. It took some doing to see it. Trees at the end of our street blocked most of the view to the west. I had to skip, bend, and backtrack to see the moon, Jupiter, and Venus all at the same time. Just before I left for my support group meeting, I found a better observatory set between the liquid ambers near the waterfall. I took a photo with my cell phone, but all I got was a disappointing dot where the moon was.

Down in Laguna Hills, I tried to show a friend the planetary gathering. A dull, red-glowing haze obscured the view. After the meeting, Lynn and I went home in separate cars. As we climbed Lake Forest Drive, the fog grew thicker, prepping us for the evening’s real adventure. Because her car was running low on gas, I elected to follow her. A few times, I lost her tail lights in the greyness over the darkness. Where there were lights, it was as if I were driving beneath the vaults of a cathedral.

Lynn missed a potential turn to the gas station, so I followed her and gave her a little honk when she got to the next. The Mobil station turned out to be closed for repairs. We wove through streets and a Home Depot parking lot, looking for the other gas station of the district, a Shell. While she gassed up, she confessed that she was afraid that at any second the red arrow was going to flick to E and she would be stuck in some difficult spot.

“That’s why I followed you,” I said. “That’s what husbands are for.”

She finished filling the tank, then followed me home. The fog was thick down Portola and up Glenn Ranch. I had to follow the double yellow lines to find my left turn. Then, on the hard hill leading into my neighborhood, the mist suddenly parted and the stars shone again. It was like being a louse climbing the head of a bald man, hair on the sides and on top the open dome.