Tag: BEAUTY

The Vast Expanse

The Vast Expanse

Stargazer: 1) a person who stargazes; 2) a daydreamer; 3) an impractical idealist; 4) any of several marine fishes of the family Uranoscopidae, having the eyes at the top of the head.

As for me, several of those definitions fit, but I’m especially quite taken with the idea of eyes on top of my head when the stars are as lovely as they were last night. After such a cloudy summer, a forecast of clear skies causes glee among stargazers…the dreamers.

It was 70 degrees at my home, at 2085 feet elevation, when I headed for Waterrock Knob, 6292 feet above sea level. After I got on the Blue Ridge Parkway, I watched the temperature start to plummet. It was 55 degrees and breezy when I arrived just before sunset. It quickly dropped to the upper 40’s and the wind started to howl on the surrounding ridge lines.

But the sky! The stars! The Milky Way!

With our country’s many struggles right now, it has never become more important for me to be outside, in Nature, and last night, under the vast expanse of the firmament. The heavens. I need to be reminded that there is an immense Universe and we are simply one tiny dot in it.

M 8 or The Lagoon Nebula

While everything socially breaks down, the stars remind me that they still move through the night sky, there is still a point of stillness in Polaris, and the Milky Way…our home galaxy…paints the night sky with its grandeur.

Last night, dressed in a micro fleece shirt, down vest, heavy down jacket, wool hat, wool socks, boots I was still chilly from the strong wind. I placed a towel on the ground and laid down while my Nikon was doing its star trail duty, programmed through the remote, to take 25 second exposures until I stopped it and the little SeeStar telescope was gathering photons from a distant nebula. Feeling the thick grass beneath the towel, I went deeper and felt the Earth, the grounding presence of our home planet. I gazed as stars shared their light. Finally, I felt at home again.


It seemed perfect to be under the cosmic sea last night as my album Cosmic Sea released yesterday. It was a perfect way to celebrate not only beauty and light, but also the work of my heart as it launched into the ether and all streaming platforms.

Finding Polaris

Finding Polaris

The nervous system was never meant to deal with the amount of information overload we are faced with every day. The mind is constantly spinning and the body becomes more and more stressed as the nervous system has no time to rest and unwind.

Last night, while standing under a sky filled with brilliant stars, galaxies, planets, and nebula, I reflected on how much star gazing—in particular photographing deep space objects and landscape astrophotography–has helped me learn to slow down. Several weeks of cloudy skies has taken away that meditative time in the dark outdoors and left me with an uncomfortable angst.

M 51 or The Whirlpool Galaxy

When I started photographing deep sky objects, I would jump from one amazing galaxy to a beautiful nebula or luminous star cluster, rarely allowing the telescope time to capture the long exposures needed as it gathered more light. I recall sitting outside under crystal clear winter skies feeling antsy and impatient at waiting. And waiting. And waiting for images to appear.

Finally, I understood the stars and all that deep space deliciousness was healing my nervous system. They were attuning me to a natural pace—the rhythm of Nature. Since we are all part of Nature, it’s odd that we are so disconnected from the rhythms of It.

While under the night sky observing, it’s impossible to see the stars and planets moving. But as you pair stars with earthly landmarks and continue watching, you will notice they have moved. Or if you place an object in a telescope view finder to see it, eventually it waltzes out of the field of view and you must reposition the telescope. The most telling sign of movement of sky objects is star trail images.

How lucky are we to have one object in the sky that doesn’t move…Polaris, or the North Star. Everything revolves around Polaris. If you set up a camera on a tripod facing this stillpoint and take a series of long exposures, and then stack them while processing, you see amazing movement. How can anything that appears to not be moving, move SO MUCH!?! That’s the magic of Nature. 

When we allow ourselves to sync with Nature’s rhythms, we slow down, but that doesn’t mean we stop. We simply go at a more natural pace that allows the nervous system to function normally…we sleep better, feel better, have more energy.

During these challenging times, never has it been so important to pause and allow the nervous system—the body system—to be in neutral stillness. Attuning to the rhythms of Nature aligns us with home, with our own North Star within. When we connect and live from that place of perceived non-movement and stillness within, we allow life to move around us instead of us trying to keep up at a frenetic pace.  Let us find Polaris within ourselves and learn to be observers of the chaos instead of participants in it.

Cycles

Cycles

Laughter erupted spontaneously as the stars witnessed my sudden understanding. Photographing the night sky, whether through a camera and tripod or a telescope, is a master course in patience. You cannot force the stars to move any faster, if you are wanting to capture their movement to create a star trails image. You can’t stop clouds from moving in to obscure the galaxy the telescope is imaging. The moon won’t slow its rising to give another 10 minutes of dark sky. The sun won’t go down any faster to help you start the imaging session sooner. The laughter emerged when I realized I was having to embody the cycles and timing of Nature…to S L O W down and be present. A nearly constant message coming from every direction these days.

For months I’ve been ‘listening’ to trees. Or feeling trees. However a human might interpret that idea. To me, it’s listening to them. Why do humans go so fast? That’s the question I hear when I’m hiking among the old ones on the high trails. My answers have varied. Snow’s moving in, gotta make it to my car before the road closes. Wind’s picking up, don’t wanna be hit by a falling branch. It’s raining. I’m hungry. The list grows. 

But when I take the time to sit on the moss-covered, fallen tree, I meld into the forest. I slow down. I remember cycles. I remember to breathe. 

M 81 or Bode’s Galaxy

The stars teach me this, too. Inhale………..exhale. Pause. Inhale………exhale. Pause. Let go. Remember. 

Total Eclipse of the Moon

I am the cycles of Nature. I am the stars, the moon, the galaxies. They are me. We are part of a whole. Separation no longer exists. Peace comes….and then? The clouds creep in. And it’s okay. 

The Anchor Point

The Anchor Point

M 51–The Whirlpool Galaxy

“The stars serve as an anchor point of stability in a dangerous and ever-changing world.” This quote from The First Astronomers: How Indigenous Elders Read the Stars, sang in my mind last night as I stood beneath the blanket of twinkling beauty.

I don’t recognize the country that I dearly love. It has become a war zone of political insanity, with fear being the commodity propagated by the current administration. It’s unbearable to stay fully informed, but the small news bites I allow to filter through my boundaries, drive me deeper into the woods and cause me to linger longer under night skies absorbing the beauty and capturing it to share, with hope that it brings comfort to those who also need an anchor point of stability.

May we gather in beauty and celebrate it, in its many forms. It is possible, in that space of undeniable grace, that we may find each other again and come together in Oneness.


The First Astronomers: How Indigenous Elders Read the Stars by Duane Hamacher with Elders and Knowledge Holders.

The 1.15am Alarm

The 1.15am Alarm

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.