
Image from “The future of the Orion constellation”: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MK6v9G06Ks8
The Starry Messenger
Blessed with the good fortune to live in the North Country where celestial skies are not dimmed and diminished by city lights, I spend many a night hour sitting or lying at the peak of our hilltop hay field star gazing. On a clear night, the astronomical show playing across the curve of the sky swells my heart when I observe the wonders of this world and shrivels my mind when I contemplate the immense depth of this ocean of a Universe. Especially compared to the shallow pond of my mental ability to understand it.
North Country night skies are far surpassed by the magnificence of the starry dome over the Nebraska Sandhills, one of the least light-polluted expanses of sky in the world. Most years I am able to travel there and devote a few nights to staring in awe at the pitch-dark void of heavens that appear more “three dimensional,” each star and planet coursing bright and purposefully through its own strata of the fathomless deep. There, the glory of the Milky Way assures you, with certainty, the joy of witnessing the natural world makes your journey through this veil of tears worth all hardships, woes, and sadness.
It also makes me aware that I comprehend so little. I see the compositions written by “The Starry Messenger” in the heavens, but I cannot truly read them. Because I do not know the language of the stars that would help me interpret the message.

A couple miles of shoeing up and down the hillsides was more than enough exercise, with clots of snow clinging to the webbing and making the shoes weigh 10 pounds each. No, it can’t be that my legs have lost any muscle tone. I’ve been resting them since the bird seasons ended in January, so they should be in great shape.


File marks
ED puts me back on the beam

