Sometimes you just have to stop running and look around. This morning, jogging under a crisp November sky, I couldn’t help but stare up at the stars shimmering brightly overhead. Jogging in a southwesterly direction, I had ample time to become engrossed with Sirius and Orion, my winter favorites.
This morning, the stars virtually popped out of the clear black in a way that makes me feel humble and lucky and aware all at once. It’s ironic that we so often miss these things that are so immense and jaw-droppingly awesome without really paying attention to what we’re actually looking at.
I remember from university astronomy classes many years ago that in the case of Orion, I was looking at a place where stars are forming. It’s hard for me to imagine anything more profound than that considering that the totality of everything we know and are exists only because one particular star formed.
Wanting a closer look and a chance to really see what I was seeing, I checked out some Hubble images courtesy of NASA’s GRIN Library and found these (which you can click for more learned info from NASA):
Just knowing what’s out there even though it isn’t visible stirs the imagination. It’s as thrilling as looking up in the direction of Cygnus X-1 on a summer evening and knowing there’ s a black hole there even though you can’t see it. Just knowing it’s there, all there, all happening indifferent to our presence, is a pretty amazing – and strangely uplifting – thought.
James Brush is a teacher and writer who lives in Austin, TX. He tries to get outside as much as possible.
Indifferent? Hah! Anyone can see that the second photo reveals a dark malevolence staring down at us, plotting . . . always plotting.
Jeffery Hodges
Be careful, Mr. Hodges. They (with a capital T) do not want us suspecting anything…
then i’ll write in miniscule so they won’t ‘hear’ me. it’s like whispering.
jeffery hodges
8 8 8