Brrriiiinnnnggg! 3:00 am. I dial the phone number. Are we still on for this morning? Yes, reports George Loyer, from the Valley of the Moon Observatory in Sonoma County. And what were you doing at 11 hours 58 minutes Universal Coordinated Time this morning?

I was listening to my shortwave radio, turned to 5000 MHZ. A tick tock tick tock rendering of the time on WWV broadcasting from Four Collins CO. The National Institute of Standards radio network. Not exactly your top ten, by my preferred easy listening choice this morning.

The moon would be 8 degrees above the horizon at 5:30 AM, or 12 hours 30 minutes Universal Coodinated Time. I had a half hour to wait. To wait for the graze. We met at Dennys at 4:00 am to coordinate. I resisted ordering "Two moons over my Hammy" off the menu, for fear of jinxing the weather. Coffee was enough.

I started scanning the murky horizon for signs of a twinkle. A moon. I caught a pelican in my eyepiece. Saw a cattle heron. Heard a seagull. I hoped the moon would show. Aldebaran would be grazing the moon, kissing the moon soon. And the graze path crossed Point Richmond, San Pablo Dam road, and Tiburon Peninsula. We searched for a good eastern horizon, and selected Shoreline Highway - near the Marin Heliport.

Time for an equipment check:

6 inch body shop cherry red reflector - check
Telrad - check
Batteries in telrad- check
Eyepiece - check
Shortwave working - check
12 hours 8 minutes - 7 minutes to go
coffee - check - I am not a morning person
flashlight - check
extra batteries - check
fog - check
misty drippy fog - check

I set up on the Heliport tarmac. George was 500 yards south in the marsh. Cameron was 500 yards north at the Merril Lynch building.

12 hours 15 minutes. Recorder turned on to record to time stamp. I started scanning at 77 degrees azimuth 8 degrees above the horizon. Four degrees above a knot of land. This knot used to be sea floor, now it's coastal hill.

Fog lifted. Hope
Fog settled. Despair

Morning had broken, birds were chirping. I scanned for the moon.

12 hours 23 minutes. Aldebaran twinkled. 12 hours 37 minutes nothing twinkled. Nothing. I packed up, turned off the recorder, shortwave radio, finished my coffee, and met my companions. I was the only one to see the twinkle. George saw a hilltop house light go on, and got excited. Oh well. It was a fun way to greet the dawn anyway.