Why does the sight of the Moon draw our gaze and silence our voices? What is it about the planets, those exceptionally bright points of light that wander among the stars, that we instinctively find so beautiful? Is it perhaps that they make us dream of faraway, unreachable places? Is it that they are beacons in the night, nature’s candle flames, helping keep fear at bay, and offering us hope amid darkness? Or is it perhaps that they seem to float — we do love things that float, whether they be autumn leaves, balloons, clouds or birds — suspended in the sky, in apparent defiance of the force of gravity which keeps us pinned to the Earth?
This last thought offers a certain delicious irony… for in truth the planets and the Moon, in their procession above our heads, obey gravity’s dictates.
The next few days, weather permitting, will give us a chance to contemplate these questions. Our planet’s natural satellite, on its monthly trip around the Earth, will pass three of the brighter planets in the sky, creating one lovely spectacle after another. Of course, the Moon really passes nowhere near the planets, just as your outstretched hand, when it blocks your view of the Moon, is nowhere near the Moon itself. It is all a matter of perspective — of geometry, of cavernous spaces, of the play of light, and of the elegant choreography of the solar system. But this perspective is not something we sense easily. Our eyes can perceive no depth for objects so far away, and so our brains form a two-dimensional picture from the three dimensions of the universe, projecting the Moon, the planets and the stars, at extraordinary distances from one another, onto a psychologically flat black screen of the night sky. It takes great mental effort to see things as they are, and not as they appear. This, too, is worthy of contemplation.
First, on the night of February 22nd, just after sunset (don’t be late!), one of the most delicate of nocturnal sights awaits: Click here to read more…
