Last Friday, February 4th 1999, the gods took some measure of pity on me and made the clouds appear before I left home and therefore sparing me the three quarters tank of gas. Saturday they kept me guessing, taunting me, clear now, no cloudy, now clear again, now cloudy. I took my wife shopping and dining instead. This brings us to Sunday February 6th. The day dawned crystal clear.
Praise be the telescope gods.
I kept a wary eye on the clouds moving northward skirting the coastline. Yet ahead, looking directly ahead towards Palomar mountain I could see nothing but clear cobalt blue sky. Blue, white, blue, white. The landscape itself began taking on a orange hue as So bid farewell for the day and horizon became hues Crayola has yet to duplicate. The wind, my companion some 9 days before was back to welcome me with chilly gusts.