Twinkle, twinkle

Sitting in the car tonight, waiting for my daughter, I opened the window and looked skyward. A beautiful night, warm, with as many stars as one would expect, this close to a sizeable regional town, and a crescent moon high in the west. A typical scene, yes? Well, it is here, Down Under (notwithstanding the wet season's first substantial cloud-bounty). However, I was taken back to my first experience of Australian skies, after first arriving here from Scotland 20 years ago. I was captivated. Not surprising, giving that I'd left a freezing northern land in January, complete with snow-turned-to-ice on the ground, and embarked on a delightful sojourn (it was supposed to be work, but was too much fun for that to be relevant) to the sub-tropical antipodes.

From 0° C to 40° C in the space of about 5 days, was quite a change. Temperature is just physics though; it required some adjustment, but it was what it was: hotter than I'd ever imagined. The sky however, was something else. Seeing Sirius nearly overhead, its brightness undimmed by the low altitude of a Scottish viewpoint, was the first thing of note. The second remarkable thing was that this scene was to be observed night after night - such that, after 2 months of unremitting sunshine and blue Rayleigh scattering, I was delighted to see a cloudy sky for a change. Anyone accustomed only to the perpetually grey skies of Britain would probably find that hard to imagine...

Back to tonight: it's easy to become blasé about the beauty of the sky, when it's always there, being ... beautiful. And even as an amateur astronomer of some 35-40 years, I am as affected by that as anyone else, and need to take a longer second look sometimes. Having said all that, what appeals so much about the night sky here - at least, between spring and autumn - is the fact that the whole experience is so damed comfortable. I don't have to put on 3 inches of insulation, before heading out to discover that it has now clouded over. There is such a sense of blissful relaxation to be had, looking at distant beacons gliding ever so slowly overhead, while crickets, cicadas etc sing their song.

I have to admit though: I'd exchange a few of these balmy, almost unchanging nights for a few displays of aurora under a crisp heaven with fiercely-twinkling stars. Of all the sights in nature, there can be few as awesome as the northern (or southern) lights. With that thought, here's a pic taken some years ago: a green rayed band over the orange glow of Edinburgh. It's a sight I will never tire of.

Image copyright © Duncan Waldron, 1992. All rights reserved.