On the night of St. Lawrence all enchanted by the magic of the sky: between romanticism, friendship, poetry and good food
Who has not expressed a wish at least once in his life looking at the falling stars in the night of St. Lawrence?
Like every year, clear skies permitting, we will be looking up at the spectacle of nature, that extraterrestrial nature that fascinates us for its romantic appearance, enchants us a bit like a magic, a little it scares us because it makes us feel small in the face of an immensity that we can't even think of for how vast it is.
And then we went out to see the stars again
Yes, because if our house is certainly not hell (despite the high summer temperatures) it would still be an offense to the wonderful nature that surrounds us not to go out to enjoy one of his best shows. As always, the advice is to avoid light pollution and then look for a dark place. Here then is that to observe the phenomenon of shooting stars the first thing to do is to escape from the cities. An evening in the countryside or on the beach or, even better, in the mountains, could also be the occasion to have a barbecue with friends or relatives. Don't forget a product, possibly natural, that will protect you from mosquitoes, especially at sunset.
What are shooting stars on August 10th?
In reality they are not shooting stars, as we commonly call them, but meteor showers, that is flows of debris left by the passage of comets and asteroids. On the night of August 10 (but not only in that one) the Earth, in traveling its orbit around the Sun, crosses the Perseids, which are nothing but a meteor shower left by the Swift-Tuttle comet.
A night of poetry
One of the greatest Italian poets of the last century, Giovanni Pascoli, inspired by the grandeur of this heavenly event, gave us the gift of these wonderful verses that make up poetry 10 August.
San Lorenzo, I know why so much
of stars for the calm air
it burns and falls, because there is a great cry
in the concave sky it sparkles.
A swallow was returning to the roof:
they killed him: he fell among thorns:
she had an insect in her beak:
the dinner of his little swallows.
Now it is there, as on the cross, that stretches
that worm to that distant sky;
and its nest is in the shadow, which awaits,
that peeps more and more slowly.
Even a man returned to his nest:
they killed him: he said: Forgiveness;
and a cry remained in the open eyes:
he brought two dolls as a gift …
Now there, in the rome house,
they wait for him, they wait in vain:
he motionless, astonished, points out
dolls to the distant sky.
And you, Heaven, from the top of the worlds
serene, infinite, immortal,
oh !, of a cry of stars you put it in your hands
this dull atom of Evil!
A greeting…
… that of The Italian kitchen: that your holidays are unforgettable and your wishes fulfilled!
Peace & love.
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