Cloudy conditions were present when I went to bed, but my Atmospheric app insisted that by the time the lunar eclipse started, the sky would be clear. With complete trust, I set the alarm on my iPhone for 1.15am.
When said alarm gently awakened me, there was some grumbling perhaps akin to that of a black bear awakening in the spring. But I put on warm clothes and fleece-lined slippers and grabbed the telescope case and heavy tripod I left by the front door. The dogs joined me but only the hound decided to remain a faithful guard against mice rustling in the leaves of the woods or ‘possums ambling around outside the fence. My Buddy dog child returned to his warm bed inside the house.
The app was right. The sky was crystal clear and beautiful. The eclipse was already in process as I set up and fussed with the smart telescope a bit. It can be a bit sassy when I’m trying to hurriedly set up. There are always lessons in patience in astronomy.
Screen shot of what I see with the iPhone app while using the telescope
The Earth’s shadow gradually covered the full Moon and in that space of time, I became more joyful and filled with awe, a side-effect of watching objects in the night sky.
The end result was not only the beautiful, red color generated from the dance of the Moon and Earth. Millions of people came together in time and space to witness this wonder of Nature. In this time of chaos and conflict, that was perhaps a true miracle.
I was sitting under a blanket of stars last night. The milder winter temperature made it pleasant. The waxing crescent moon wasn’t too bright, so I could observe stars, and the moon gave enough light to see the gray shadows of rocks and trees.
Crab Nebula
Since playing with a smart telescope begin in December, I’ve learned the art of stillness. Perhaps it’s more accurate to say I am learning the art of stillness. Taking an image of a far-away galaxy or nebula takes a while. Sometimes hours…but I’ve only done a 31 minute exposure thus far. There’s so much I want to see out there in the Universe so staying on one object for more than half an hour is challenging.
And I don’t want to go back inside the house while the telescope patiently records the stacks of images. Otherwise I could just rent telescope time from some far-away observatory while I sit in my home drinking hot cocoa and eating scones (as if I could afford that….but people do that…the renting telescope time, not eating scones and drinking hot cocoa). I want the experience of stargazing from underneath the sky, not my roof. The images are part of it, but the experience of awe under night skies…that’s my kick.
I always sense trees I connect with while hiking ‘say’…why are humans always in such a hurry…slow down and listen. I pause and stand with them, but rarely sit and ‘listen’ for more than a few minutes.
Last night, I realized I was receiving the same message from the stars. So, I set up shots with the telescope, made sure it was working correctly by viewing it on my phone, and then placed my phone down on the ground under the tripod and watched the stars move ever-so-slowly across the sky.
Orion Nebula
Thirty minutes is a long time to sit and observe an image come into being. I’ll be honest, five minutes is a long time if you are used to being active person. Stargazing is helping me learn to slow down and operate from a different speed.
My assignment is watching the stars move across the sky. Literally. Tracking stars reminds me that even the slowest, almost imperceivable movement is still movement and progress is being made. These experiences help connect me to deep time, that vast expanse of cosmic time, and that helps me move beyond the trappings of the chaos happening now in our world.
My growing edge is to embrace stillness…wherever I find myself. If possible, put my bare feet on the ground and connect directly to Her. Our Mother. Our Home.
With a recent intention to stop and ‘listen’ to trees while hiking, I keep feeling the trees ask me to slow down and stay a while. Every time I do this, the question arises—Why are humans in such a hurry? Whether it’s originating in my consciousness or I’m feeling the tree asking I don’t know, and it doesn’t matter. It’s the same question every time.
The Whirlpool Galaxy or M 51
Star gazing with a telescope, especially photographing the changes happening during a session, has taught me how fast I move and want things to happen. And how the movements of heavenly bodies isn’t something we can rush.
Mars sits below the Moon and slightly to the left
Last night I was watching the Moon occult (pass in front of) Mars. Luckily, I have a high screen-free window that is perfect for moon-gazing, so I set my telescope on its tripod on my dining room table rather than in the snow and 26 degree temperature at 8.30pm last night. I was comfortable and warm, so no excuse to rush this amazing phenomenon.
After finding the Moon and Mars, focusing the telescope, and centering the heavenly bodies, I sat witnessing this event that occurs every 26 months. Last time this happened was December 18th, 2024.
Moon and Mars, with Mars almost directly below the Moon and very close to being occulted
It took 30 minutes from the time I started photographing until Mars disappeared behind the Moon. I used the three viewing distances the telescope offers, reset the focus, and continually recentered the Moon as it moved across the sky. It’s not easy to see it move without a telescope, but with a fixed viewing platform, it moves rather quickly. But quickly is a relative way to describe the movement.
As I write this 10 hours later, the Moon is about to set and is dancing with Venus. That’s a long time, if you stay up and watch it move across the sky, but only one night’s travel out of a year’s waltz of cycles. So how can it feel so long for a 30 minute viewing session of Mars being occulted by the Moon?
I laugh at myself and think of the question that arises every time I stop and listen to trees. Why are humans in such a hurry? Last night I felt that question as a small impatience began to grow within me. So, I took a deep breath and relaxed as the Moon and Mars did their biennial frolic.
Dali’s melting clock painting was a great image to hold as I allowed myself to expand into astronomical time. With no excuse to hurry anything, I sat and allowed the beauty to sink into my bones and the wonder to arise from that deep place within where memories of ancestors sitting and marveling as constellations moved across their dark skies lives.
George Masa, (1885-1933) a photographer who immigrated from Japan, explored and preserved the natural beauty of the Southern Appalachian Mountains. He was fond of saying, “More walk, less talk.” I thought of him this morning as I contemplated star gazing. Maybe my new saying will be, “More gaze, less craze.”
A bit of Mars red tint can been seen in this image as the Moon nears
While the beauty is what draws me to the night sky, heavenly bodies are teaching me to slow down and break free from speeding through life. Why do humans move so fast? Maybe we think we have somewhere else to be…but what if the only place we have to be is here…now.
I was a bit overzealous in piling the incense blend I made onto the glowing charcoal. My home filled with the sweet smoke, which is awesome. But I was concerned it would cause the smoke detectors to start blaring, which would make my dogs lose their minds…not so awesome.
It was 26 degrees outside, but the wood stove had us nice and toasty. I opened the back door to allow some of the smoke to escape.
Sunlight was streaming in at the exact right angle from the high window. The smoke turned into a living, breathing thing as it slowly drifted out the door, wafting towards the brisk air and open space.
I considered how our thoughts are like smoke. They go out into the world, creeping along, harming or healing.
What we think about and dwell on grows. Ponder wisely, the smoke said, as it meandered out the door. Sometimes it’s good to open the door of our mind and let thoughts go.
Over the course of 12 days away from work, I finished a goal I set to hike each day. I called my self-challenge, The Twelve Hikes of Christmas. Over the course of this time, I hiked a total of 57.63 miles and had an elevation gain of 9302 feet. No records, but that wasn’t the reason I did this.
I chose a word to describe each hike and this is what I ended up with, in order: Celebration, Foundation, Challenge, Beauty, Fun, Recovery, Reconnection, Adventure, Solitude, Expansive, Grief, Peaceful.
The overall takeaways from the challenge were: Setting goals helps me maintain momentum; Nature is the ultimate ‘everything’ for me; being able to adapt to changes brings joy.
I hiked easy trails, icy trails, challenging trails. I saw devastating loss of grandmother trees. Every experience was valued.
As I hiked, I worked on getting clear on my path forward and how I want to contribute to raising of consciousness on the planet. But mostly, I simply enjoyed being outdoors in places of amazing beauty.
High winds or icy conditions on the road through the national park hindered some hikes I envisioned doing. I didn’t get to hike a favorite trail I really wanted to hike. The one day I could have, I chose a new trail and found it might be a new favorite. Moving forward in life, I was reminded to trust my intuition and how things come together. It will be exactly what I need and want.
I have been in a magical world of Nature for 12 days, so the next challenge is to stay peaceful and grounded as I move back into the muggle world of a ‘job.’ Prior to my time off, I was struggling to go outside and walk after eight-hour work days. I need to prioritize going outside each day and enjoying Nature, no matter what. This is vital for my wellbeing.
Day
Date
Location
Word
Elevation Gain
Mileage
1
Dec 21
Oconaluftee River Trail
Celebration
52 feet
3.26 miles
2
Dec 22
Deep Creek
Foundation
243 feet
3.51 miles
3
Dec 23
Lonesome Pine
Challenge
2454 feet
6.88 miles
4
Dec 24
Ramsey Cascades
Beauty
2323 feet
7.95 miles
5
Dec 25
Jump Off—AT
Fun
1588 feet
6.55 miles
6
Dec 26
Oconaluftee River Trail
Recovery
46 feet
3.28 miles
7
Dec 27
Bradley Fork—Hitching Post Falls
Reconnection
466 feet
5.87 miles
8
Dec 28
Deep Creek/Indian Creek
Adventure
715 feet
8.02 miles
9
Dec 29
Oconaluftee River/Blue Ridge Parkway
Solitude
194 feet
3.11 miles
10
Dec 30
Williams Pulpit Bartram Trail
Expansive
1093 feet
4.12 miles
11
Dec 31
Asheville Botanical Gardens
Grief
102 feet
1.2 miles
12
Jan 1
Kituwah
Peaceful
26 feet
3.88 miles
Bartram TrailView from Williams PulpitGrandmother Tree at Williams PulpitBartram TrailMy friend Angel and me on the Bartram TrailView from the Blue Ridge ParkwayEight-point buck on Indian Creek TrailYearling in Deep Creek Bradley ForkBradley ForkOconaluftee RiverAT from Newfound Gap to the Jump OffATNear the Jump OffJump Off trailJump OffATGrandmother Tree on Ramsey Cascades TrailRamsey Cascades TralRamsey Cascades TrailPure joy at Ramsey CascadesRamsey CascadesRamsey CascadesRamsey CascadesRamsey CascadesRamsey CascadesRamsey Cascades TrailRamsey Cascades TrailLonesome PineLonesome PineLonesome PineLonesome Pine OverlookKituwahKituwahKituwahKituwahKituwahKituwahKituwahKituwahKituwahKituwahAsheville Botanical GardensAsheville Botanical GardensAsheville Botanical GardensAsheville Botanical Gardens
