When I was a child, my mother used to show me the Big Dipper in the night sky and Orion. I dutifully nodded but was never able to discover them myself. To me, they were stars like any others. Beautiful to look at. Somewhat mysterious. Certainly, no constellations.
Then, our city built a planetarium, and my parents took my younger brother and me to a show. To me it was like a movie without a plot. Interesting but not exciting. I remember that the speaker talked about supernovas. Armstrong and Collins were also mentioned. It was bewildering and somewhat scary – worlds without life. Everywhere, endlessly.
I started looking for constellations only early in my twenties. Funny enough at the most unlikely place – outdoor parties at my university campus during warm summer nights. Not much to discover in a sky that was lit by the city lights. By now, I was able to find the Big Dipper, Cassiopeia, and – in the colder seasons – Orion.
It was my husband who sparked my real fascination for the great beyond with a telescope he produced one very cold winter night in England. Back in the day, he was living in a small village with a big, dark night sky above. He looked at astronomic maps on the internet on a regular basis, and whenever there was an interesting planet to be seen, he’d take his telescope from the conservatory, place it onto his lawn, and search the sky. When he showed me Jupiter for the very first time, I was smitten.
Since those days, we have checked a lot of phenomena of the sky. We have even traveled to catch a glimpse of a spectacular Blood Moon eclipse, chased a total solar eclipse (which unfortunately was eclipsed by clouds), and have taken along the telescope to campgrounds. In short, the once scary endlessness up there has become something way more friendly, meaningful to me.
Only this week, during the Harvest Moon, we took our telescope onto our patio and watched Saturn and Jupiter as they traveled the sky. And I found the horn of Capricorn and parts of Aquarius all by myself with my bare eyes. What a discovery!
Some years ago, my husband and I went exploring in uptown Port Townsend and ended up in an antique store. I fell in love with an old telescope immediately; its feet were wooden, the scope itself was decorated with beautiful brass elements. I knew I wanted to have it. My husband went all through the store and seemed to be oblivious of the instrument. I should have known better. For, while I was still wondering should or shouldn’t I buy something that would only serve decorative purposes at home because of the much better-quality telescope we already had, my husband was already at the cash register. And the antique telescope was ours, now an eye-catching item in one of our rooms.
Fall and winter nights are ahead of us. Many will be too clouded to see the planetary gorgeousness in the sky. But I’m already looking forward to the times we will take turns behind the lens, huddled in our coats, stomping our feet to get the chill out of our toes. You might try this for yourselves. It’s some wonderful bonding time over something that is so ancient – and yet always so new!
Apologies, everybody. I caused a glitch in the the second caption – that’s Jupiter, of course …
Susanne,
Once again a wonderful story I so enjoyed. I really need to buy a telescope, I am always checking out the sky, daytime and night time. Have thought about taking an Astronomy class but just never have found the time. Ever since COVID 19 lockdowns began, I began sending a picture of the sunset almost daily to a group of lady friends. We share our thoughts of the day and give encouragement to each other during these rather crazy times we are all living through. It’s been a blessing for all of us.
Well, hope to see you at FAB. Phillip told me you appreciated my last comments and that you had thanked me, I didn’t see that, but glad you saw my note.
Looking forward to your next story, Hugs. Bev Raschke
Thank you ever so much for your kind words again, Bev! You might have noticed that my second caption was too Saturnic – it is Jupiter, of course, LOL. We found our electronic telescope at a pawn shop, by the way. That is another source for fun items. There are sky maps on the internet. Not sure whether we subscribed to one or whether it’s free. They are priceless to identify constellations and help with the daily “news” up there.
I have been avoiding any indoor events for the past (how many?) months ever since the end of January 2020, so won’t be at the FAB Fest either. Too much of a health risk for me, unfortunately. Hope you are successful and have lots of fun. Hugs to you!
I too have a fasination with the stars in the sky. I love driving through Nisqually very very early in the mornings ans seeing the moon shine bright and the stars twinkling. Alway wondering what planet they are. I really need to learn more about them. A telescope and Mr Google might be fun! Thank you for another wonderful article.
Thank YOU for your kind words! Indeed, early mornings are wonderful, too!
No picture gives the experience of looking through a good telescope and seeing the celestial beauties.
Nope, because photography in the dark has never worked out for me. And I’m not using flashlights when somebody is star-gazing … 😉
Your articles are so enjoyable and this was no exception. My first experience at a Planetarium was the Natural History one in NYC when I was 5.. I was fascinated with the large “rock’ at the entrance. Turns out I learned only a couple years ago that it was a meteorite uncovered in Oregon and brought to NYC by train way back in the early part of the 20th century. Anyway, I was 5 and the show was about a meteor hitting planet Earth. The “sky” on the ceiling was on fire and it was coming at me, or so I thought and I was screaming. It was a short time after that, that children 5 and under were not allowed to see those viewings. I wasn’t the only one no doubt.
My oldest son had and still has a fascination with space and has telescopes he brings to roof tops to view the sky. It’s a shame we have to get farther and farther away to see the full night sky anymore because of all the city lights.
That meteorite “experience” must have been horrifying, indeed.
I feel the same about the constant settling of our western countries and the light pollution. Some years ago, my husband and I hiked completely in the dark in the Mt. St. Helens area. The moon and stars were our only light source, and it made us feel so “connected”!