It's twilight. Chilly, but not awful for February.
The forecast is calling for 4 to 6 inches of snow tomorrow. Of course, we've had approximately eleven winter weather advisories in the past fourteen days, and it has snowed exactly once. All of a quarter-inch.
The night is mostly clear. Here on the outskirts, half a mile from the city limit sign, it's dark enough to enjoy the evening sky.
Venus is the most radiant. Hanging above the western horizon. I realize my knowledge of Earth's sister planet is limited. I know that's where women are from and that's pretty much it. Then I remember a couple of ex-girlfriends I haven't heard from in years, and assume they must have returned to the mother planet.
Barely visible at Venus's five o'clock is Mars. The two are so close together! I enjoy the spectacle. And wonder how Earth looks from there.
When I think of Mars, I always think of George Bush saying we're going to send a man to Mars, which leads my mind to Will Ferrell as George Bush, and I smile.
Overhead, I find the well-adorned Orion with his belt of three stars. I see Betelgeuse. Then to the left and a bit lower, there is Sirius.
Using a star gazer app on my phone, I am able to locate Jupiter in the eastern sky. This makes me think of the movie "2010: The Year We Make Contact" and the message: "All these worlds are yours except Europa. Attempt no landing there. Use them together. Use them in peace." I shake my head at how I can remember that line exactly, yet can't ever seem to remember much else.
An airliner in a holding pattern circles overhead. It looks for all the world like it will knock Jupiter right out of the heavens. I watch to see if it will eclipse the planet, but its turn takes it barely below.
By now, my neck has begun to hurt from all the craning. I think about how difficult it must have been for sailors in olden days, what with all the no-stargazing-and-sailing distracted boating laws. And it strikes me that I may have just inadvertently solved the Titanic mystery.
As I start to go in, my last view is of the horizon. It's one of my favorite views. Giant trees, skeletons of winter, against the evening sky.
Horizons. It feels as if I'm standing squarely between two right now.
I am in the midst of quite a lot of changes -- in life, not with my blog template -- and likely more are on the way. As one who typically loathes and fights change, it seems all the more strange that this is me -- calm, content, and at peace with it all.
On the one side, I see the hope and challenges of tomorrow with its untested waters and brand new adventures.
On the other, the light has begun to fade on the day that was, with its different adventures, misadventures, familiar paths and beautiful indiscretions. The people and places from these days evermore sewn into my soul.
So as much as I'm looking forward, and I am, there will always be times I will look back. With a smile in my heart and nostalgia in my eye.
For I have loved these days.
"We're going wrong, we're gaining weight / We're sleeping long and far too late / And so it's time to change our ways / But I've loved these days..."
The forecast is calling for 4 to 6 inches of snow tomorrow. Of course, we've had approximately eleven winter weather advisories in the past fourteen days, and it has snowed exactly once. All of a quarter-inch.
The night is mostly clear. Here on the outskirts, half a mile from the city limit sign, it's dark enough to enjoy the evening sky.
Venus is the most radiant. Hanging above the western horizon. I realize my knowledge of Earth's sister planet is limited. I know that's where women are from and that's pretty much it. Then I remember a couple of ex-girlfriends I haven't heard from in years, and assume they must have returned to the mother planet.
Barely visible at Venus's five o'clock is Mars. The two are so close together! I enjoy the spectacle. And wonder how Earth looks from there.
When I think of Mars, I always think of George Bush saying we're going to send a man to Mars, which leads my mind to Will Ferrell as George Bush, and I smile.
Overhead, I find the well-adorned Orion with his belt of three stars. I see Betelgeuse. Then to the left and a bit lower, there is Sirius.
Using a star gazer app on my phone, I am able to locate Jupiter in the eastern sky. This makes me think of the movie "2010: The Year We Make Contact" and the message: "All these worlds are yours except Europa. Attempt no landing there. Use them together. Use them in peace." I shake my head at how I can remember that line exactly, yet can't ever seem to remember much else.
An airliner in a holding pattern circles overhead. It looks for all the world like it will knock Jupiter right out of the heavens. I watch to see if it will eclipse the planet, but its turn takes it barely below.
By now, my neck has begun to hurt from all the craning. I think about how difficult it must have been for sailors in olden days, what with all the no-stargazing-and-sailing distracted boating laws. And it strikes me that I may have just inadvertently solved the Titanic mystery.
As I start to go in, my last view is of the horizon. It's one of my favorite views. Giant trees, skeletons of winter, against the evening sky.
Horizons. It feels as if I'm standing squarely between two right now.
I am in the midst of quite a lot of changes -- in life, not with my blog template -- and likely more are on the way. As one who typically loathes and fights change, it seems all the more strange that this is me -- calm, content, and at peace with it all.
On the one side, I see the hope and challenges of tomorrow with its untested waters and brand new adventures.
On the other, the light has begun to fade on the day that was, with its different adventures, misadventures, familiar paths and beautiful indiscretions. The people and places from these days evermore sewn into my soul.
So as much as I'm looking forward, and I am, there will always be times I will look back. With a smile in my heart and nostalgia in my eye.
For I have loved these days.
"We're going wrong, we're gaining weight / We're sleeping long and far too late / And so it's time to change our ways / But I've loved these days..."
I am impressed with your new knowledge of the sky, Bone. Those stars and planets can become old friends and are comfortable, for unlike your ex-girlfriends,t they are already there (except for when it is cloudy).
ReplyDeleteThanks. I kept thinking "This sounds like something Sage would write." And then I figured I was probably going to mess up the location of something and you'd stop by to politely correct me.
DeleteThe app has been good. I mean, it's not the iSage of course.
I'm guessing with 14 weather warnings and a 1/4" of snow, school has been cancelled several times already and the local grocery store has run out of staples like bread, milk or bottled water a time or two. We are forecasted to get 8 to 9 inches of snow today and school is still in session and there are plenty of groceries to be had.
ReplyDeleteYou're exactly right. I'm pretty sure the city school system has had one full day of school in the past two weeks. I still don't know why people go for milk and bread.
DeleteThis comment made me laugh so hard :)
DeleteYour post makes me think that I need to go tour the observatory again...but clear nights are few and far between.
ReplyDeleteI need more coffee before I can come up with anything Seinfeld related here.
Aren't you still getting free cafe lattes for life from the settlement? ;-)
DeleteYou are at peace--for you. How wonderful
ReplyDeleteWe have too many lights to really see but walk four blocks and there's the ocean so....
Thank you. The edge of the ocean is usually a pretty good place for sky gazing.
DeleteI loved this post Bone! I look at the night sky and wonder about all those other people that see the same sky but live in a very cold place. Here in Arizona the evenings can be warm and the palm trees sway in a soft breeze. Orion seems to sparkle even brighter for me here.
ReplyDeleteBe well.
Barbara
I never knew you knew so much about the sky! You should have taught my intro Astronomy class - where I did NOT learn anything about the Constellations, FYI. I learned the physics behind astronomy and about stars burning out. I was not impressed.
ReplyDeleteThe end to this is at once beautiful and sad. I wish you much peace and happiness in the coming 'horizon' of your life.