At 6 am I opened the blind. In spite of the glaring orange street light outside I could see the Southern Cross high in the southwest. The air was still, the sky clear. If I didn’t have work tasks to achieve in the next hour I would have set up the telescope.
Instead I went out on the back deck. Three streetlights were more or less visible, each 50 to 100 metres away, a couple being shaded by trees. One neighbour, about 75 metres away, had an inside light on, but again, trees partially shaded it. That meant the sky was dark, and beautiful.
I could see the sweep of the Milky Way across the sky, from Scorpio high in the northeast, with Jupiter just below, along to the Southern Cross.
In those moments of dark, before the day started to lighten it was a small treasure. I feasted my eyes on the stars and sky for a few minutes before the mundane took hold. A bit of a breakfast for the spirit.
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Friends of mine were in New Zealand in January. The husband, a retired airline pilot, tried to show his wife the Southern Cross, which (as you probably realize) cannot be seen from North America. He couldn’t find it because the sky was just too darn bright.
But I’m sure the bright sky blight worse in major cities, here and there.
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