“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.
I laid on the porch, gazing into the clear sky, as Orion slowly moved across the sky. In another area of the immenseness of space, my little smart telescope took 10 second exposures for 1 ½ hours of a small section of Ursa Major known as M 81 or Bode’s Galaxy.
The stars seemed to enhance the stillness of the evening as I allowed my mind to wander through constellations and galaxies. All chaos of the external world dropped away and the ‘I’ slowly dissolved into the vastness of the heavens.
I’m finding the night sky my haven, my place of refuge and safety, during these times of social discord and unrest. This quote I came up with sums it up for me:
The image I see on my iPhone–as the telescope works its magic–is below, but what I see when I look into the night sky is pure awe sprinkled with the stardust of Oneness.
If you want to know how the Hubble telescope sees in the M81 galaxy…..
M 81 is 11.6 million light years away and is a 6.9 magnitude spiral galaxy in the constellation Ursa Major. In the center is a black hole 70 million times the mass of the Sun. This image taken by Hubble uses visible light and infrared light. Ultraviolet light from hot, young stars is fluorescing the clouds of hydrogen gas. M 81 is 15 times the mass of the Milky Way, our home galaxy. Thanks to NASA for the information and image.
My images won’t be perfect. I do very little post-processing because I want more moments under the sky and less hours in front of a computer. Some amateur astrophotographers devote hours to stacking, color correcting and come up with lovely images and that’s their bliss. I’m super-grateful there are those who choose to push the boundaries of software and computers to show us even more beauty. I’ll just sit outside as long as I can with a far-away look in my eyes and an open heart to the magnificence of the Universe. That’s my bliss.
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.
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.
