John Jardine Goss is president of the Roanoke Valley (Virginia) Astronomical Society, and past president of the Astronomical League, the nation’s largest federation of astronomical societies. He has earned the title of Master Observer from the Astronomical League and has authored a book, “Exploring the Starry Realm.” He also writes a monthly stargazing column for the Roanoke Times. He and his wife, Genevieve, reside near Fincastle, Virginia, and are members of the International Dark-Sky Association.
“… I wander’d off by myself,
In the mystical moist night-air, and from time to time,
Look’d up in perfect silence at the stars.”
—from “When I Heard the Learn’d Astronomer” by Walt Whitman
John Jardine Gross
Why do you spend so much time looking at the stars? I am occasionally asked various versions of that by people who really don’t know me and who really don’t know the heavens. My overly-long answer…
More in this past year than in others, people have been trying to make sense of their world, while also seeking to achieve some degree of emotional comfort. Many have found an upwelling of inner peace, awe and contentment just by venturing under the starry dome and admiring what lies in the firmament.
What do they see? What do they feel?
They see their past filled with pleasant memories of family camping expeditions where younger renditions of themselves lie in cozy sleeping bags in the darkness. Above them, silent meteors flash past innumerable stars. They felt joy—and astonishment at what they saw. Those thoughts from long ago still evoke the same feelings today.
In the night sky of today’s world, they see stars that, to them, have been twinkling forever. They see bright planets steadily shining almost knowingly at them and everyone else on planet Earth. They see the magically glowing band of the Milky Way galaxy arcing overhead with its vast star fields interspersed with mysterious dark lanes and subtle glows. They see the blackness behind the stars. They feel humbled.
They know that no matter what transpires on our little blue planet, all will be constant in the heavens. All will be as it should. These sights will always be here for not only them, but for their children, and for their grandchildren. They feel a sense of permanence in the cosmos.
We live in a region of the country that, on occasion, brings sparkling clear skies to its winter nights. Cold? Yes. Clear? Excitedly so! Sometimes, a string of moonless nights comes our way, presenting a wonderful opportunity to head to a dark area to gaze thoughtfully into the depths of space.
Whatever the season, why not travel to an expansive overlook on the Blue Ridge Parkway, drive to a nearby state park where outdoor lights are discouraged, or stroll along a darkened beach? You will be simply amazed at the view stretching from horizon to horizon. These are celestial sights never seen in the city, these are sights not seen by people who don’t make the effort to venture under the stars. More importantly, these are the same sights seen by our ancestors as they gazed skyward in perfect silence trying to make sense of their world.
That is why I wander off by myself into the mystical moist night–air and gaze introspectively into the heavens.
The story above appears in our January/February 2021 issue. For more like it subscribe today or log in with your active BRC+ Membership. Thank you for your support!