Take that, Orion

Orion used to be my favorite. Constellation that is. You know how it is. As a kid you learn to find the Big Dipper. Maybe little ursa too. 

Then you get a little older and (maybe) wiser and along comes Mr. Complicated, Orion, so clear once you learn to recognize him.

Every winter you enjoy him striding across the sky in his seven-million league boots.

I always thought he was pretty cool....liked seeing him come back each fall, along with the winter sparrows.

Then we moved into this igloo and I became mightily less fond of him and his season. I have lived in cold houses before...the old farm house just down the road from here, which was heated with antique wood and coal stoves. That's where I learned to build and maintain a fire, as the alternative wasn't pretty.

And the camp. Intended to be a summer getaway for my grandfolks. No insulation. No inner walls. No heat source. No chimney even. It was there that I learned to heat with things that aren't really combustible. You CAN start a fire with wet wood if you are cold enough. I remember one night.....but I would rather not remember it, so let's not go there.

Anyhow, I now dread Orion's annual autumn appearance nearly as much as I dread April 15th. He is however, relentless alas, and ubiquitous.

But.....wait for it......

Early-early this morning I paused at the stair landing window. It was still plenty dark and the big stinker was playing mannequin challenge on the heifer barn roof. Darned show off anyhow. Seriously, how hard is it for a ball of stars to stand still out in the frozen darkness? Not very.

However, all at once an orange orb of light, moving slowly across the sky, revealed itself to be a low-flying airplane. It lumbered along on a collision course and then flew....right under his kilt.

I swear I heard him giggling as he fell off the roof, scattering stars and lightning like fireflies in a summer thunderstorm.

Take that, Orion, you big old phony, you.