The sky fascinates me. Always has. I find sunrises, sunsets, full moons, blue moons, constellations, shooting stars, meteor showers and lightening bugs all delightful. Okay, lightening bugs are not celestial objects but they are fun to watch on a warm summer’s night.
Tonight, I thought about the time I spent in Panama. I was in the Army and felt guilty for being there because it was a tropical paradise. There were about 20 of us working at a remote radio bunker, guarding the fort against invading seagulls.
My duty station was Fort Sherman on the Atlantic side of Panama and was fairly remote. Panama City was on the Pacific side and was filled with international banks, fast food and duty-free merchants selling expensive cameras and electronics. Our barracks stood on a narrow finger of land between the Atlantic Ocean and the Bay of Colon.
There was no glass in the windows of the barracks, only screens to keep the mosquitoes out. At night a cool, salty breeze would drift across the ocean making it pleasant for sleeping. You could look out the windows and see the lights of Colon twinkling on the bay. It looked like a postcard.
I spent most of my spare time exploring the area around Fort Sherman. During one expedition I found Fort San Lorenzo, an old Spanish fort built for King Philip II, who reigned in Spain in the late 1500s. The engineer was Juan Antonelli.
The stonewalls, battery emplacements and some of the old canons still stood on the deserted site. It sat near the mouth of the Chagres River, which provides access to the interior of Panama by water. The fort stood on the crest of a cliff. On a clear day, it seemed like you could almost see Jamaica. I loved that old fort and went there often.
One of my most remarkable visits was late one night when the moon was new. I was lonely, and home felt like a million miles away. I rode my dirt bike down the road that cut through the mangroves. When I got to the fort, I walked out on one of the stonewalls and sat facing toward home. I was the only soul for miles
I sat there for a long time, lost in my thoughts, listening to the ocean crash on the rocks a few hundred feet below. The sky was dark except for the sliver of the new moon. It struck me that you could not see the familiar glow cast by city lights. The stars looked like diamonds lying on black velvet.
Suddenly I saw a shooting star with a vapor trail that reached almost to the bottom to the horizon from where it appeared. I bolted upright and wiped my eyes. I thought at first I imagined it, but a few moments later, another one appeared just as brilliant as the first. Soon I lost count of how many I saw. It was the most remarkable meteor shower I have ever seen. It was then I stopped feeling lonely and started feeling blessed that I witnessed such a celestial light show.
