Sky & Telescope April 2003 [antikvár]

focal pointThe Stars in OppositionNicole Gordon looks formeaning in late-night munchiesand the Milky Way.It is after midnight, and I am sitting on an outcrop of volcanic rock at the edge of the sea on the Big Island of Hawaii, munching on trail mix and gazing at the sky. It strikes me that, while my stomach drove me from my sleeping bag in search of a snack, it's my sense of wonder that keeps me from returning to its cozy warmth.Above me the night sky is lit with thousands of stars. They are bright and dim, steady and flickering, red and blue and gold. They splatter and sparkle their way across the warm Hawaiian sky, floating in the darkness between the Pacific horizon in the east and the mountaintops in the west, sinking in the white depths of the Milky Way and surfacing brilliantly in the blackness that surrounds it.I find my points of reference: the Big Dipper is wedged into the top of the Pali cliffs, its handle sticking out into the sky. Leo stretches out atop the mountains like a lazy feline basking in the soft light of the slivered Moon. Corona Borealis fits between Hercules' broad shoulders and Bootes' pointed posterior. Sagittarius takes aim with his bow as Scorpius uncoils its lethal tail, point by starry point, down to the sea. The Southern Cross, visible earlier, has rolled off the edge of the black horizon.There is something wonderfully primal about looking at the sky. Somewhere deep inside us there is a need to turn our heads upward and ponder the little points of light above. Perhaps it is a human version of howling at the Moon an ancient and instinctive act with an intangible aspect to it that transcends rational explanation. My own eyes are drawn to the sky because what I see there is overwhelming and cathartic. Any concerns on my mind are rendered irrelevant beneath our galaxy's smattering of endless starlight. Gazing upward at night can be liberating; in tipping my head back, I am free.I know I am not alone in this sentiment. It does not surprise me that the stars are fundamental to both the skies and our consciousness, embedded in both space and our minds. Nor does it surprise me that there are few natural objects as culturally connotative as stars and as richly endowed with symbolic meaning. We wish on stars, we reach for the stars, we speak of stardom, and sometimes we even have stars in our eyes.Perhaps our fascination with the stars comes from the fact that they are full of oppositions. They are simultaneously universal and personal. Other people in other places are surely gazing at them as I am now, climbing onto rooftops and balconies, looking up from cornfields and canyon floors to fulfill an inexplicable need. The sight they behold means something different toeach camper, each astronomer, each person sitting on a patio with a bent neck. Each one is finding her favorite constellation, thinking of his lover, focusing a telescope, or counting shooting stars.The stars are dynamic yet static. They move throughout the night and year but never abandon the basic integrity of their formations, each one loyal to its path through the sky and its place in a constellation. They are mobile yet constant, changing yet immutable. Maybe what awes us most about stars are not their pretty sparkles but rather their principles.They are practical yet romantic. We have used them throughout history to mark the passage of time. Sailors rely on them to chart paths across the ocean, explorers to navigate across the Earth. By studying their composition, birth, and death, scientists learn about outer space and create technologies for use on Earth.Yet, despite all this, stars are more famous for their romance than for their utility. Stargazing with one's partner is the quintessential romantic cliché. And there are our peculiar habits of reading horoscopes and wishing upon shooting stars. Cultures around the world name the stars, assign them to constellations, and weave elaborate legends to explain their presence. We incorporate them into religious symbolism (Star of Bethlehem, Star of David) and look to them for artistic inspiration (Van Gogh's Starry Night).Ultimately, then, we're fascinated with the stars because in their oppositions we reveal a concept that is deeply inspirational: possibility. The stars symbolize possibility of all sorts scientific, religious, mythological, romantic, and personal. It is no wonder that they keep me awake at night, perched on a rock in contemplation. I watch them burn bright paths through the darkness, their numbers as endless as the possibilities they symbolize, and I cannot sleep.When she's not looking at the stars from a sleeping bag, Nicole Gordon ([email protected]) writes about outdoor activities and environmental issues.