I opened my eyes and looked up. The red digital angles of time stared back at me from above and across. 3:12am.

“Hey, weren’t we supposed to see the meteor shower and the phosphorescent algae?” I elbowed Nick who was snoring next to me. A series of onslaughts and complaints about missing cosmic events eventually led to a role-reversal. Suddenly I was expected to get up and walk to the beach too. In the corner, a planetary solar system was lit up like a diorama. I didn’t look too closely at the glowing orbs. They were remnants of an art installation for the Venice Art Crawl in September. Welcome, fall.

The bathroom had been turned into a “Cosmic Bathroom” with black lights, painted wallpaper strips, and paper mache planets hanging from above. Now a pared down version had been transferred to Nick’s room. I was too tired to decide whether I approved or disapproved.

I put on my wedges, demanded a hoodie, and we walked down Venice Way, through Windward Circle, past the iconic Venice sign, cut through the boardwalk, and then we were there.

“I don’t see anything. Don’t we need to actually be on the beach…like the shore to see something?”

“Well, Andrew said he saw the algae.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, but he walked all the way from Marina to Venice, so he may have had a better view. You wanna go in and check it out?”

Silence.

“I mean, we’re all the way out here. We might as well.”

“Fine.”

I took off my wedges and walked through the sand. I could hear the waves crashing and eventually I saw them in front of me whirling in a way I never saw them whirl during the day. Their night dance. Just for us. No one else was around.

“Do you think anything can bite me? My feet are cold, and I can’t see.”

“Nothing’s going to bite you, but you might get poked with a used syringe.”

Silence.

“Do you see that?” I barely saw it, but I saw the luminescent turquoise crest to the right as the waves crashed down. It wasn’t dramatic. More like the ocean’s sleight of hand. Box checked. I wasn’t sure if this had been worth the trip.

“OK, let’s see if we see the meteor shower now. It’s supposed to go from there through Orion’s belt.”

“I don’t know where Orion’s belt is.”

“I do. See those three stars?”

“Oh, I just saw it.”

“I didn’t.”

“That’s because you weren’t looking.”

“If I look, will I see it?”

“Yeah, if you wait a few minutes, you should see something, so keep looking up.”

“I don’t see anything. And my neck hurts.”

“Lean back.”

I stiffened into a board and leaned back so my body was tilted back 30 degrees. My head rested on his chest. I stared and stared. Nothing.

“I’m done.”

Hand in hand, we walked back, retracing our steps. It was quieter than before. The Mediterranean food truck that had been serving fries when we had gone out was now shuttered. “Season’s Greetings” one of the panels flashed overhead.

“Nick, you know we’ve known each other now for 5 months, right?”

Sometimes when you think you’re on a road to nowhere, you can look back and have a surprise gestalt moment about how far you’ve come.