Twenty-two minutes.

For twenty-two minutes I stood out in the cool breezes, feeding and taunting mosquitoes.

Long enough to hear something of some size shift a twig in the brush pile.

Twice.

Long enough to hear something rustle a tiny, tiny leaf behind me.

Long enough to see something, a sphinx moth or bat, go flitting by waist high about a meter and a half to my left.

Long enough to see the moon drop down behind the trees and rooftops.

And how many Perseid meteors did I see in that time?

One. Eine. Une.

And it lasted less than a flit of time.

Bummer.

Maybe tomorrow night will be better.