“It’s over,” as Roy Orbison sang. The barefoot, lazy days of warm summer — when I sat on the deck in the evenings, feet up, watching the stars, dreaming under the moon with moths visiting the perfumed trumpets of brugmansia, hearing cooing of doves with a cold drink at hand — have been relegated to memory. Now it’s a cup of hot cider and plate of brownies, a warm jacket, fuzzy slippers, maybe an afghan, and barred owls calling across the woods. The stars have changed. My eyes are scanning the night for flashes from the October Orionid meteor shower as the constellation Orion the hunter is on his quest across the southern sky. I can’t deny I’m watching for Betelgeuse to go supernova in a spectacular celestial burst. It might be a long wait for one of the brightest stars in our winter sky to

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