Conversations With Orion

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One of my very favorite times of day I've come to discover, is Maxwell's last potty break of the night.  Since Maxwell gets excitable while any other activity is carrying on outside his crate, this last trip to the backyard usually occurs after everyone else has retreated to their rooms for the night.  I generally put the house to sleep before taking him out back, so it's almost exclusively alone time.

Now make no mistake, I live in the heart of the 3rd largest metro area in the United States, so this could hardly be labeled quiet time.  The ambient (and sometimes not so ambient) sounds of the city are all around.  However, the back of our house faces west by southwest which is essentially away from the more developed portions of the Metroplex, and so we do have some degree of lessened light pollution, if nothing else.

It so happens this orientation--at this time of night, during the winter months--also grants an unobstructed view of the Orion constellation.

And so I find myself, night after night, lifting my eyes to these familiar stars while I wait for Maxwell to do his business.  By chance and propinquity, Orion has turned into an old friend, a companion, a confidant, a paragon.

I admire him for his stoicism.  No matter my mood; no matter the subject of conversation, he greets me with the same affable silence.  He's not ever cranky.  He doesn't ever mock me, or belittle my feelings.  He listens with a quiet attentiveness.

I admire him for his tenacity.  Night after night he traverses the sky, always in pursuit of his mythical quarry. I have never heard him complain.  Solemn he stands, a bastion of perseverance.

Of course I know that Orion is little more than a grouping of gaseous stars hundreds of light years away.  In fact the light I'm seeing now was emitted well before I was born.  But he's been an unassuming constant in this life where so often I feel utterly lost.

Soon Orion will slip behind the blinding curtain of our own sun's daytime glare for the duration of the summer.  I will miss our unpretentious whisperings, and I look forward to picking up where we left off come Autumn.