Eric and I drove out east of Manor to watch the meteor shower tonight. After several false starts due to my paranoia about trigger-happy landowners, we finally found a nice dark bridge to watch from.
For a while, the shower was kind of bullshit. Unless you know where to go, there's no escaping bright lights, even out in the country, and clouds and haze obscured a lot of the view. We still managed to see a few fast little ones, quick and inconsequential as flicking a piece of hair off your face. That was pretty cool, but after about 45 minutes of that we were about to give up and get back in the car.
One more and we'll go, we decided, and that's when we saw the low, long streaker that was white and orange and purple and lasted far longer than we could gasp. Goosebumps, chills, that excellent frozen feeling at the base of my skull, all that. It was the best thing I've seen in a while, and the drive home made me realize how badly I want to take a road trip so I can see some other good stuff.