Tears of St. Lawrence

Stars, I have seen them fall,
But when they drop and die
No star is lost at all
From all the star sown sky.

A. E. HOUSMAN MORE POEMS CANTO VII

Our story begins far away in Imperial Rome, more than seventeen hundred years ago. By the mid-3rd century AD the Christian Church had grown into a surprisingly large and well organised religious entity. That’s despite many long years of official approbation, alternating with severe bouts of state sponsored persecution. The revered head of this emergent faith group was the regnant ‘Pope’ or Bishop of Rome. In the summer of 258 AD the latter was the ill fated Pope Sixtus II (spelt ‘Xystus’ in the original Greek) soon to be proclaimed the Martyred Saint Sixtus!

If contemporary records are to be believed, this particular Pontiff (Latin-Bridge Builder) maintained a surprisingly large and substantial household. Or nascent ‘court’ depending upon how you care to characterise it. His immediate entourage comprised some 46 priests or presbyters:-from the Latin for ‘Elders’. In addition the Papal ‘court’ encompassed a further 52 miscellaneous attendants, in their official capacities as sundry exorcists, readers & doorkeepers. Then last, but by no means least some seven ceremonial deacons. Take note!

The aforementioned exorcists were licensed by papal authority to ritually cast out devils, from those unfortunates deemed to be possessed by evil spirits. Or suffering from other morbid and sordid spiritual afflictions. The role of the Readers is pretty self explanatory. They were men (and some women too perhaps?) whose job it was to read aloud from the sacred texts, during Sunday and other such services.

Those readers performed a vital communications role, in an age marked by high rates of illiteracy and innumeracy among the general populace. As such unlettered souls composed the vast majority of early Christian congregations. Then came the slightly mysterious and enigmatic ‘doorkeepers’ who comprised an embryonic cardinalate. They derived their later title from the Latin Cardo= hinge/pivot, later to become full blown Cardinal meaning ‘Hinge Man’.

They had the difficult and sometimes dangerous job of jealously guarding access to the papal person, besides providing for the physical security of the ‘Bishop of Rome’. Most particularly if he was on the run from the authorities. Those infant cardinals were a brave band of men and possibly women too-again perhaps? Although the documentary evidence for the latter is fragmentary and deeply ambiguous at best. As no one really knows what role woman played in church’s senior ministry, before it became an almost exclusively male preserve during the 4th Century AD.

By the medieval period the cardinalate had evolved far beyond a small group of nimble and courageous individuals-possibly of both sexes-acting as protective screen around the Pope. With the most senior of the cardinals, having entitled themselves as Cardinal Bishops (Latin:-cardinales episcopi) and consolidating their position as the real power behind the Petrine Throne. These senior cardinals meanwhile had evolved into a close nit coterie of portly and very patrician prelates. With many (if not all) having acquired quite notorious reputations, for political chicanery and monumental corruption!

They secured their position by instituting themselves formally into the grandiose ‘Sacred College of Cardinals’. In the spring of 1059 Pope Nicholas II (1058-1061) promulgated a momentous electoral decree. Which awarded the Cardinal Bishops with an almost exclusive monopoly over the choice of all future candidates for the papal throne. That Nicholas II was himself a former Cardinal Bishop should come as no surprise. But you don’t need a doctorate in divinity to the imagine the ‘wonders’ this malign measure worked for all ready fragile church unity.

Because of it’s very negative implications for the junior members of the Sacred College. Those less senior churchmen now entitled Cardinal Priests (Latin-cardinales presbyteri) and Cardinal Deacons (cardinales diacconi) respectively. Who hence forth were reduced to a pretty token and purely affirmatory role in the election process. As for the lower clergy and humble laity, they lost all say whatsoever. The only influence they could exert from now on was the thinly veiled threat(and frequent reality) of mob violence.

In the event of the Cardinal Bishops attempting to foist a completely unacceptable candidate upon the wider Church. The junior cardinals with the connivance of the local clergy and support of the general populace, could instal a rival or so-called ‘Anti-Pope’. By the 11th Century there had already been an ugly rash of these deeply divisive figures, stretching back all the way to the Church’s earliest Roman origins:-See Part 2. But Nicholas’ arbitrary decree served only to accentuate rather than ameliorate this unfortunate trend. As the last such Anti-Pope Felix V didn’t finally abdicate (as opposed to being deposed or simply bumped off) until 1449!

It took the Cardinal Priests and Deacons centuries to claw back voting equality with their seniors. Thereby bringing a lasting end to this sad, shameful chapter in the Church’s long and chequered history. However it’s good to able to point to another clerical enactment from approximately the same era, by of one of Pope Nicholas’ not so distant successors. Which by way of happy contrast left a positive and lasting legacy that’s still very much with us today.

The historic decretal Licet De Vitanda promulgated by Pope Alexander III on March 19th 1179. It’s basic provisions are still in force concerning the conduct of all papal elections considered to be ‘Canonical’ I e legitimate. Pope Alexander (good name if I say so myself, not that I’m biased!) laid down that the outcome of such an exercise could only be accepted as ‘Canonical’. If and only if the following stipulation had been strictly adhered to faithfully and in full.

That the winning candidate had garnered a minimum of two thirds of the votes of assembled cardinal electors. The decree was later slightly amended to provide for the somewhat awkward situation, which inevitably arose from time to time. When the total number of cardinal electors was not exactly divisible by three. Which has in fact occurred quite often over the last nine centuries or so. Note that in this case the winning candidate would require a minimum number of votes equivalent to two thirds of the total to the nearest whole number plus one!

So how did/does this provision work in practice? Well, say the number of cardinal electors was ninety nine. Then any serious papal aspirant (nicknamed papabili in Italian) would require at least sixty six votes to win the election. But what happens if the total number of cardinal electors was one hundred? Then the whole process becomes much less straight forward, but a damn sight more interesting. As the winning candidate would then require a very minimum of sixty eight (not sixty seven) votes to be canonically elected.

Your hard pressed author is very grateful for this opportunity to clear up any such confusions, that so often arise around this subject. As the mechanics of a papal elections can be pretty baffling for your average layman or woman, let alone anyone else! But it’s not just ordinary members of the laity, who found it hard to make sense of sometimes. Even expert clerical commentators and veteran Vatican watchers get it wrong with surprising frequency. As I couldn’t help noticing in the recent run up to the election and elevation of Pope Leo XIV. (This being June-July 2025 at the time of writing).

From the mid 13th century onwards the cardinals of episcopal rank proceeded to exercise their self inflated electoral prerogatives, amidst the secretive and cloistered confines of the Papal Conclave. The term deriving from the Latin Cum=with and Clovis=key. It’s worth noting the centrality of terminology relating to entrance ways, exits, locks, doors etc., in the Catholic Church’s historic traditions and customary practices. These concerns relating back to the time of St. Peter, are reminiscent of distant ages past. When prior knowledge of these subjects was of vital importance. As the lack it could have major and often fatal consequences for early Christians.

Which neatly brings us back to the embattled community of the mid 3rd Century AD. Even then it was an already well established custom and practice for the Bishop of Rome. Whenever he should deign or dare to appear in public, to be attended by seven ceremonial deacons. The clerical title derived from the New Testament Greek diagnosis meaning servant or helper. The primary task undertaken by this special clutch of papal acolytes, was to act as an of honorary and not so honorary bodyguard to the regnant Pope.

Those papal deacons were each drawn from the Imperial Capital’s primal parishes. Which in turn were probably based around the famous seven hills (the Capitoline, Palatine, Aventine Etc.) of Rome’s legendary foundation, by Romulus and Remus back in 753 BC. All together a very satisfactory and ecumenical arrangement. As the number Seven was of great significance not just to early Christians, but many classically minded Pagans and Old Testament Jews too. Each deacon was in turn assisted by a Sub-deacon and six carefully chosen members of the local laity.

These were usually a set of trusted individuals in the most minor holy offices. Those being in descending order of seniority-Acolytes-Exorcists-Lectors-Spare us the Hannibal jokes please! The latter being most elevated rank of Church readers. Whose job it was to recite the Holy Scriptures during church services, quite literally from the ‘Lectern’ (illustrated above). Which left the forth and last order of humble Porters to bring up the rear.

There may well have been one or two additional orders, which we don’t really need to concern ourselves about in the present context, as these effectively became defunct as formal holy offices after the complete demise of the western Roman Empire in the late 5th Century AD.

All those mentioned were tasked with the distribution of alms to the poor and needy, in their respective parishes. As well as tending to the physical well being and spiritual health of the wider community, including many non Christians as well. Almost inevitably some of those papal deacons and sub-deacons, and occasionally their even humbler assistants. Became very well known and indeed popular amongst the plain ordinary ‘Plebeian’ citizenry of Rome.

For hundred years thereafter it was by no means uncommon for a mere deacon or sub-deacon (or sometimes a man even further down the clerical pecking order) to be elected Pope. Which should come as no great surprise all things considered. As this was ‘Dark Ages’ when being a modest monk or relative layman, was seen as no bar in the court of the public opinion to the throne of St. Peter. Most particularly in an era when Papal elections had little or no procedural formality. As more often not they were simply a spontaneous exercise in rather rowdy acclamation by the urban masses.

As the centuries rolled on by the papal deacons finally achieved full cardinalate status. They became incorporated onto the greater ‘Sacred College of Cardinals’ as the third and lowest order of the College. From now on they were known as ‘Cardinal Deacons’. But at the price of accepting along with the ‘Cardinal Priests’, quite a menial and subordinate role (for reasons already explained) in the papal election process.

Yet ironically enough it is members of this particular order of the sacred college. Who retain certain ceremonial functions, which date back to the earliest origins of the cardinalate. As tradition dictates that the most junior member of the Cardinal Deacons acts as an honorary doorkeeper, during the closed and secretive sessions of the Papal Conclave. After the election has been successfully concluded it is one of the most senior of Cardinal Deacons who takes centre stage.

From a balcony high up on St. Peter’s basilica, he proclaims the ‘good news’ to expectant crowds gathered in the square below. Not to mention the millions of the faithful watching at home and elsewhere around the world. Who hang on his every word with bated breath, as he officially relays the details of the conclave’s electoral proceedings. The task in hand usually falls to either the Cardinal Archdeacon or the Cardinal Proto-deacon.

The former is usually a venerable cleric, well over the eighty year age limit, to be a voting member of the conclave. Those elderly cardinals over this age limit have purely consultative role (if ever required) in relation papal election process. So in our own day and age it’s usually the Cardinal Proto-deacon who does the honours. He is the most senior member of the order of Cardinal Deacons attendant in person at the conclave. Because he still young enough (if only barely in some cases) be to a voting member of the Church’s supreme elective assembly.

The Cardinal Arch-Deacon or Cardinal Proto-Deacon enact their proclamatory role by ritually reciting a litany of certain Latin phrases. From an old liturgical refrain that probably dates back to at least the Dark Ages, perhaps even to the earliest Roman origins of the Catholic Church. Therefore:- Annuntio vobis gaudium magnum (I announce to you a great joy) Habemus papam (We have a pope!) followed by the official title(s), the baptismal name and finally the regnal name of the newly elected pontiff.

But hold on a minute! I can almost hear you cry. What on earth has this got to do with astronomy?

Well in answer to your question gentle readers. I have long believed a more eclectic approach to certain subject matters, is by no means altogether a bad thing. Because a narrow subject specific treatment of some topics often does more harm than good. Besides, the broad brush way of going about it can be a lot more fun. For I would contend the ecclesiastical aspects of this amazing story, are almost as interesting and relevant as the celestial ones!

If by any chance you remain unconvinced, please just bear with me a little bit longer. For once upon a time a distant historic equivalent of a modern cardinal deacon, along with his unfortunate clerical colleagues. Found himself forced to play a pivotal role in the tragic and complex saga, with a grave and lasting astronomical dimension. As it unfolded in and around Rome, over the long hot feverish summer of 258 AD.

When Emperor Valerian (253-260 AD) went back on previous and solemn pledges of religious toleration. He then pursued a particularly vicious campaign of persecution (even by contemporary standards) against the local Christian community. The spiritual leadership of the Church responded as best they could. As they had done so on many previous occasions, in reaction to such barbaric bouts of state sponsored aggression. Directed at all those of their religious persuasion, up to and including the Pope in person. As Christian clerics (both in major and minor orders) attempted to support and rally their fearful and confused followers.

They did so on occasion by holding illicit communion services down in Rome’s infamous catacombs. Or by addressing impromptu gatherings of their parishioners in private cemeteries along the Appian Way. These burial sites had the clandestine advantage of being located on the outskirts of great cities like Rome. Because it was believed such out of the way and somewhat forbidding places, might be less likely to be kept under police surveillance. Or so it was the hoped by local Christian leaders. But these hopes ultimately proved in vain.

The first week of August found the be-leagued Pope Sixtus II trying to preach a reassuring sermon to members of his frightened flock. On the verges of one such cemetery named after a certain Praetextatus. But Sixtus had barely begun his address (ex cathedra in Latin) from his makeshift and portable episcopal throne. When he was spotted by local informers who summoned the Emperor’s Praetorian Guard. According to legend they dragged the brave and benign bishop bodily from his throne. Then the praetorians marched him off with many others of his ad hoc congregation, to face the truly awful death of an authentic saint and Christian martyr.

THE TEARS OF SAINT LAWRENCE PART II.

When Pope Sixtus was taken into custody he was accompanied by six of his ceremonial deacons. The Bishop and his faithful attendants were all beheaded soon after. Two of the said deacons Felicissmus and Agapitus were subsequently canonised along with their courageous pontiff. They are still commemorated on the Church’s official calendar of saints, sharing the same feast day (August 6th) with their sainted Pope.

This left only one member of the bishop’s immediate entourage still at large. The seventh and last of those deacons, an upright and virtuous young man called Lawrence. Who was brimming over with clerical and episcopal promise. Pope Sixtus clearly saw in him a potential successor and was in the process of grooming him to that effect. One of the Pope’s first acts after his election and formal consecration, was to make Lawrence the leader of his papal diaconate. By appointing him an Arch-Deacon.

He was the first holder such an office in the recorded history of the Catholic Church. If the Liber Pontificalis (literally the ‘Book of Popes’) the Vatican’s official account of itself is to be believed. This made Lawrence in institutional terms the distant antecedent of the Cardinal Arch-Deacon and the Cardinal Proto-Deacon of our own day. He might well indeed have gone on to become Pope. Who Knows? If things hadn’t turned out in the tragically different way they subsequently did. But Lawrence did manage to evade arrest for another two to three days. Yet eventually he was apprehended and taken into custody.

In all probability the doughty deacon was simply beheaded as well. But many came to believe afterwards it was horribly otherwise. In the decades that followed his untimely death, many lurid and fanciful stories circulated about the details of Lawrence’s dreadful demise. Most of these were the tallest of tall tales, with little or no substance or veracity. But many members of the early Christian community, in an age somewhat more credulous than our own, were only too ready to believe them.

In the absence of any contemporary reports of a reasonably reliable nature. We have to fall back on the colourful accounts of doubtful authenticity, composed by certain chroniclers writing a century or more after the events described. Such as distinguished church historian and long serving Bishop of Milan the formidable St. Ambrose (334-397 AD). In addition the celebrated poet and religious apologist Prudentius (348-405AD). However modern scholars caution us as to how much store we can safely set, to their rather exaggerated and somewhat blood thirsty narratives.

As it was the same Prudentius writing around 400 AD. Who ascribed an equally gruesome, but unlikely death (as he did for Lawrence a generation later) to another 3rd century martyr Saint Hippolytus. He was schismatic presbyter with the dubious distinction of being the Roman Church’s first recorded ‘Anti Pope’ (see Part 1). After he defiantly installed himself as an alternative to the reigning pontiff St. Callistus (217-222 AD) and his successors St. Urban (222-30 AD) and St. Pontian (230-235 AD).

But by the time Hippolytus expired about 235 AD, he had long since made peace with his episcopal opponents. He like so many other Christians of all stripes was the victim of the another and great anti-Christian purge instigated by the Emperor Maximinus (the Thracian) Thrax in the mid 230’s AD. As a direct consequence both Hippolytus and his former rival Pontian were deported to Sardinia. Then known as the notorious ‘Island of Death’. As Sardinia was anything but, the picturesque tourist destination we think fondly of today.

In Roman times Sardinia was the equivalent of Soviet era ‘Siberia’ for political and religious dissidents. The two future saints were condemned to a life (if you can call it that) of slave labour in the Island’s infamous salt mines. Where it seems they both died of a combination of over work and painfully cruel conditions. However Pontian and Hippolytus were completely reconciled (both personally and theologically) in the face of shared suffering and mutual adversity. Indeed we might hope they remained so into the next life with their subsequent and joint canonisations.

Yet if Prudentius is to be believed. Hippolytus actually expired by being torn apart by a furious posy of wild horses. However, there has long been the lurking suspicion that Prudentius may have mixed up the Christian saint, with a minor figure from Greek mythology. A royal prince also by the name of Hippolytus. Who was the son of the hero Theseus and his mistress Hippolyte. The latter was the formidable queen of the legendary Amazons.

Hippolytus, so the story goes, was a chaste and noble youth devoted to all kinds of athletic and equestrian pursuits. He was also and perhaps not unsurprisingly, an ardent devotee of the virgin hunting goddess Artemis. But this didn’t stop Hippolytus being desired by his amorous stepmother Phaedra. She was later the subject of numerous dramas both ancient and modern, most famously by the celebrated French playwright Jean Racine (1639-1699). When Phaedra attempted to seduce her stepson, he haughtily rejected her advances. She subsequently went mad and took her own life, but left a suicide note for her husband Theseus.

In the note Phaedra falsely accused Hippolytus of rape before she died. Theseus in fury in called upon the sea god Poseidon to avenge her death. One day when Hippolytus was riding out in his chariot near the coastline. When Poseidon sent a sea monster to suddenly arise out of the waves close to the shore, where Hippolytus happened to be careering along at full pelt. The monster’s surprise appearance was so alarming, it caused the horses pulling Hippolytus’ chariot to stampede in all directions. The unfortunate prince was thrown to the ground and dragged along it, and then he was trampled to death by his own terrified steeds.

What exactly happened next remains unclear. Some say he was miraculously resurrected by Asclepius the God of healing. Then went on to live in exile in another part of ancient Greece. But others contend he was taken pity of by his patron goddess Artemis. Who petitioned her father Zeus to have Hippolytus raised up unto the heavens above. Where he can still be seen to this day with his chariot train, as the circumpolar constellation (see later) of Auriga the Charioteer. As Hippolytus’ name meant originally meant something like ‘unleasher of horses’ the latter seems more likely. So just be patient gentle reader, as I told you we are finally getting to the astronomy!

Given all the narrative confusions concerning the circumstances of Hippolytus’ death. Whether he was the son of Theseus and/or the Roman Catholic saint. It’s only right to be somewhat sceptical about the version of events later given, by the likes of Prudentius and Saint Ambrose, concerning the ultimate fate of Lawrence. If these had so much as a nodding acquaintance with the truth. As opposed to crude pieces of historical fiction or some other form of religious propaganda. Then we can only conclude the following in all fairness. That the final hours of the future saint’s life must have been a momentous, but real life melodrama. Which successfully encompassed all the essential elements of Opera Grande!

Soon after his arrest, if the accounts of Ambrose and Prudentius accounts are correct, Lawrence was brought straight before the City Prefect. The latter demanded he surrender up and account for all gold plate, and other valuables belonging to the Church. As one of his duties as Arch Deacon, had been to act as a kind of ex-officio finance minister or canon chancellor to the late Pope. Lawrence happily ‘obliged’ by boldly embracing a nearby clutch of blind and starving beggars. Then defiantly declaring; ‘Here is the church’s treasure’. The Prefect responded in a fit of fury by summarily condemning the brave, but luckless Lawrence to about the most diabolical death yet devised.

For on or about the 10th August 258 AD the poor bloke was literally barbecued to bits. As he was slowly and systematically roasted to death over a red hot gridiron. Indeed a ‘Gridiron’ has been the long suffering Lawrence’s official emblem ever since. Soon after he was proclaimed an authentic saint and martyr, along with Pope Sixtus and his fellow acolytes. The noble and self sacrificing deacon was the same Saint Lawrence, who later gave his name to the mighty St. Lawrence river in North America.

Now, it just so happened that canonical date of Lawrence’s martyrdom roughly coincided, with the annual activity peak of the so-called Perseid Meteor Shower. In the many centuries since the peak of activity has shifted slightly(precessed is the technical term), more towards the end of the second week of August, rather than middle. Therefore it’s hardly surprising the Perseids long ago acquired the endearing moniker and universal nickname ‘The Tears of St. Lawrence’.

For every year or so it seemed to our Roman Christian forbears, the heavens took to ritually re-enacting poor Lawrence’s dreadful ordeal. With the fiery meteors seen as a lasting memorial to the many tears the unlucky Lawrence, is said to have shed during his agonising ordeal. Besides being some kind of divine tribute to the numerous sparks that showered off the gridiron. As he was slowly and horribly despatched into the next world. Thus signifying some sort of heavenly sanctification for the spectacular displays, put on by this particular stream of shooting stars.

In our own era the Perseids usually come to a head around the 12th, 13th or 14th August. By sheer and rather sad coincidence August 13th happens to be the official feast day of both St. Hippolytus and St. Pontian. When you consider these kind of curious coincidences in a broader historical context. It not difficult to understand why our distant ancestors, attached so much religious significance to this kind of celestial event, or why so much superstitious awe might become associated with a certain shower of shooting stars.

That said the expression ‘Shooting Stars’ is in fact something of a misnomer, as A. E. Housman’s rather sarcastic verse suggests (see part 1 introduction). The ones we’re interested in (technically termed ‘meteors’) have little if anything to do with real stars. The meteor streams in question, are in fact nothing more than trails of fine dust particles shed by passing comets. The most famous of them all being the immortal Halley’s Comet.

The latter is basically a huge chunk of cosmic rubble (2-3 miles or so across) leftover from the original formation of the Solar System. Which coalesced out of a cloud of interstellar gas and dust about five and a half billion years ago. Once in a while as the Earth goes round the Sun, it passes through the dust trail left by one comet or another.

The dust and debris trail streaming off Halley’s Comet is actually responsible for not one, but two so-called ‘Periodic’ (as in regular and recurring) Meteor showers. The Eta Aquarids in May followed by the Orionids in October. But neither can compare the with the showy and occasionally eye catching displays put on by the Perseids. The latter owe there origin to the recurring passage of a certain object officially designated-109/Swift-Tuttle.

The Comet responsible for the August Perseids is named after two American astronomers Louis Swift & Horace Tuttle. They jointly discovered or rediscovered it in 1862, during the early stages of the American Civil War. I say ‘rediscovered’ because the Comet may well have been first glimpsed back in the 1730’s. By a redoubtable and industrious Jesuit astronomer named Julius Scaliger. Who combined missionary work and scientific research in distant China. Or ‘Far Cathay’ as it was often referred to in his day.

Swift/Tuttle is otherwise a fairly typical and unremarkable comet as this sort of object usually goes. It takes approximately 130 years in it’s elongated and cigar shaped orbit to make one complete revolution of the Sun. The last time the Comet came into close vicinity with the Sun (known as Perihelion) and the Earth was back in 1993. The next return is due in 2126. But as a cumulative consequence of these endlessly recurring celestial cycles. We are able to enjoy (with a wee bit of luck) the pleasing spectacle of an annual, periodic meteor shower!

But I relay all the aforementioned very advisedly. As attempting to predict the likely outcome a meteor shower, is an even more inexact science than forecasting the weather. Some years the Perseids put on very poor showing indeed, with just a smattering of shooting stars. On the other hand when the Perseids actually do do something worthwhile. The heavens are almost inevitably overcast above the location. Where you or I-the typical observer-nearly always happens to be.

However, don’t let any of these negative considerations put you off from going out and trying to see them. If skies are clear and the meteors actually show up and do there proverbial duty. It can indeed be a quite impressive spectacle!

In 2025 the Perseids were due to peak over the night/early morning of Tuesday August 12th & Wednesday August 13th. This shower has the rather unfortunate habit (from the British point of view) of coming to a height about 3-4 am UK time. Our Canadian and American cousins living across ‘The Pond’ along the Atlantic seaboard, are usually much better placed to admire any such action there is. Because they have the built in advantage (clock wise) of being five or more hours behind their British counterparts. Therefore they can go outside and appreciate the heights of meteor activity (if any there be) at a far more civilized time than we can.

Would be Perseid watchers on this side of the Atlantic are well advised to head outdoors around 11:00pm. Then stay put until roughly 1-2:00am unless something really interesting starts to happen. In 2025 the Moon will be just a few days past full. It will inevitably introduce an element of natural light pollution to the proceedings. But this should be of no great concern. As the light shed from such a Moon, however strong, will only drown out the fainter and fastest moving meteors. The views of the brightest and the best shouldn’t be seriously affected.

To be able to enjoy the Perseids at there best, ground based observers need a location with a clear and unobstructed view of the North-eastern sky. Which often can be most comfortably accomplished from the congenial vantage point, of a good old fashioned deck or folding chair. The focus of your attention should be on the general area around the circumpolar constellation of Perseus. From which the periodic shower in question originally derived it’s name.

The constellation is named after the mythological hero, who slew the Gorgon Medusa and rescued the beautiful princess Andromeda. Just in the nick of time as she was about to be devoured by the ravenous sea monster Cetus. Perseus is one those constellations deemed ‘circumpolar.’ Because it never actually sets at our northerly latitudes. Instead it spends all day and night going silently about the Pole Star in an anti clockwise direction. But at no point in it’s daily voyage around the Pole, does it ever sink entirely below the horizon.

By late night in early August Perseus is well up in the north-eastern region of the heavens. The meteors usually begin to modestly shower (‘radiate’ is the technical term) from this general area of the sky, shortly after midnight or 1:00pm. See Sky Map:-

‘Shower’ indeed is not an unreasonable term. As the meteors in question really do streak across the sky at literally lighting speeds. With a velocities approaching thirty or even forty miles a second! Tradition dictates making a wish whenever you see a shooting star. But the vast majority of meteors move far too fast to do that. Only about one in a hundred or less travels slowly enough, to give any star struck observers down on Earth, sufficient time to really make a wish.

People often ask whether eye catching events in heaven can influence happenings down here on Earth? Well leaving aside the fanciful claims of astrology, your author can most certainly testify in the affirmative. I’ve had a lifelong struggle with severe depression. Which has brought me to the brink of suicidal despair numerous times. But the totally unexpected apparition of a shooting star, lasting about a single second or less, has literally saved my life on more than one occasion. Maybe, just maybe God or the proverbial gods do send us messages from above. If only were sufficiently receptive enough and open minded enough to read them. Who knows?

Whilst we’re on the subject, it’s worth considering the very language and basic terminology of meteoritics is deeply religious in origin. As it arose out of liturgy of the early Greek Orthodox Church, dating back to opening centuries of organised Christianity. As the word ‘Meteora’ translates as ‘suspended in mid-air’. As for ‘meteorite’ it simply meant member a monastic community. But not any old community I can tell you. But the life long inhabitant of a certain type of high rise ecclesiastical architecture, for which Greece is rightly renowned. I mean of course the elevated houses of prayer and spiritual contemplation. Which perch on top great rock stacks, where they are there for everyone to see, in places like the Khalkidhiki region to this day.

Although it seems pretty spectacular, a bright shooting star is a textbook case, of how deceptive appearances can be. As the object concerned behind this short lived, but undoubtedly impressive display of celestial fireworks. Is all too often a tiny particle of gritty material, not much bigger than a breadcrumb. That broke off and departed company with it’s mother Comet literally aeons ago.

These tiny lumps of cosmic debris (technically known as ‘Meteoroids’) can float around the solar system for millions and even billions of years. But sooner or later they encounter the gravitational field of a planet like Earth. Which proceeds to steadily draw them down towards our domain. The dramatic encounter between these meteoroids and the upper levels of atmosphere generates an enormous amount of frictional heat.

Which is why the vast majority of meteors burn up many miles (25-75 kilometres usually) above the Earth’s surface, long before they ever reach the ground. It’s only certain chunks of ‘meteoritic’ material usually consisting of very hard stone, with deeply embedded veins of nickel and iron. Which are the ones big enough and sufficiently robust enough, to survive the punishing descent all way down through the atmosphere. When they either plunge into the sea or crash into the land. The surviving fragments of such impacts are what we call ‘Meteorites’.

The processes I’ve just described are of such intensity they can occasion produce shooting stars sufficiently bright, to momentarily light up the ground. Don’t believe me? I witnessed this very phenomena with my own eyes during the late 1990’s. Whilst watching another celebrated periodic shower called the Leonids. One incredibly cold and early morning in mid November. It was one of those incredible sights, I will truly never, ever forget. I will now simply conclude by expressing the hope this article might be of some help, to anyone who bothers to read it. Perhaps it might even persuade some of you to join me. In an attempt to witness this remarkable spectacle.