It's a splendid night, though. The moon is on the verge of fullness, and the fat, white orb is now well above the treetops eastward that concealed its rising. Cirrus clouds developed this afternoon, and they've hung around to be moonlit drapery for the night sky. The crickets are in full voice, but the recent heat has taken a toll on the frogs, desiccating much of their habitat and reducing their numbers, until I hear only a few croaking from the low parts of the woods where the stream runs. On the other hand, the heat has surely hastened the development of the jasmine blossoms which are about to open. Usually they wait until June, but I expect the air to be scented with their perfume any night now. It is not the best of Mays, it is not the worst of Mays.
Catalina Island has five webcams.
But the steamers are no longer there.