November 5, 2024

. . . the stars were incredible, some of the best I have ever seen, especially the last night after the party, when we laid out on the tennis court until 2 am -- perfect seeing, no moon.

I found the National Audobon Society's Field Guide to the Night Sky at the used bookstore in town. I used to be so mystified by the constellations, but that book made it very easy to conceptualize & pick them out of the night sky. If I had had a few more nights there I could have found more dim star clusters, nebulae, distant galaxies -- but I could only find one or two new things per night, and we could only look to the southeastern skies, away from the lights of the house.

A long weekend is criminally short, so I can only prepare myself for my next time under the cosmos, which unfortunately may be a long time yet. If there is one thing I detest about living in NYC -- there are a couple, but the foremost thing -- is how astronomically far away I feel from the night sky, which in all other phases of my life has been only a short drive away. I miss the RPI observatory, I miss Grafton Lake, I miss the neighborhood under construction & not yet wired out on TX-71, I miss the comet hanging over Balcones Canyonlands, I miss my telescope in my backyard as a kid, looking at Jupiter's moons. I miss the eras of my life when the night sky was dominant, when I spent hours under it totally alone in perfect quiet, unnoticed & unaccounted for by anyone, driven into the ground by its vastness like a nail beneath a hammer, like a seed into loam, nourished & spreading roots. When the highest thing you can see is a rooftop, the world becomes much smaller, and people seem unnaturally large.

One night walking through the field from Hoosick Street to my apartment at Stacwyck, perfectly clear, I passed into the woods looking skyward, only noticing I had entered them by the black silhouettes of branches projected like fingers on the midnight, mesmerized, until I heard a loud snap right in front of me -- I froze, & for a long moment, under starlight, leaning on our night vision, me & the doe tried to figure each other out.