antares

Mountains on both sides, some man-made glow on the northern horizon, last dark blue fading in the west. An occasional shooting star. Scorpio low in the sky. It's been many years since I've seen it so clearly, the head and claws all in one line and the long backwards J of the body and curling tail. For a moment, a passing plane is the point of the venomous sting whipping forward into a hapless neighboring constellation, but then it continues on its path and the effect is lost. But the scorpion remains, resting and waiting, its red giant heart beating in the middle of its starry thorax.