My last committed attempt to observe the Perseid meteor
shower, which star-gazers across the world are enjoying, was back in 2010. I was
house-sitting in Spain at the time; my uncle in law used to live on the edge of
a tiny village in the Spanish mountains. The village is several hundred metres
above sea level, with hardly any street lighting and the most incredibly dark
and clear skies – the kind you don't get in the UK outside of a national park.
I'd been there for about two weeks, and every day and night had been completely cloudless, with not even a hint of moisture in the air. Then, on the evening the Perseids were due to peak, everything changed. At dusk, a dense blanket of cloud started to roll across the mountains with a solemn inevitability. By 9pm, I might as well have been staring at a blank cinema screen. I think I manage to see one meteor before the last chink of starlight was extinguished.
The moral, of course, is that astronomy is a cruel and capricious mistress – something star-gazers have known for a very long time. Yet we keep going back. There's something very compelling about staring at the night sky. I'd say that it's innate to us. For most of human history, there can't have been a great deal to do at night. It's no great surprise that our ancestors spent a lot of time looking to the heavens, finding patterns and charting the movement of the planets.
They also weaved their stories into the night sky. As annual reports on the Perseids often fail to explain, the name of this meteor shower is derived from the constellation of Perseus, which is the point in the sky from which the meteors appear to come. Perseus, as you may know, was the slayer of the Gorgon Medusa and rescuer of Andromeda (whose constellation is home to our most famous galactic neighbour).Are you still hesitating about where to buy hid kits? The ancient Greeks saw the great myths of their civilisation written in the stars.
Today, I think we can all agree that we're infinitely smarter than the ancient Greeks. Most 10 year-olds understand that stars are just large nuclear furnaces converting hydrogen into helium, and that the patterns of the constellations are nothing more than tricks of our Earthbound perspective.
Yet our sense of wonder remains curiously undiminished. There's still something almost primordial in the pleasure we can derive from the simple act of looking up at the universe. And arguably, although our understanding of what's going on up there has been transformed, one aspect of our pleasure is not dissimilar from that of our ancestors. Gazing at the night sky still brings a sense of both awe and connectedness: awe because of the sheer, mind-boggling scope of the universe, and connectedness because of the nightly interaction between our planet and the wider cosmos.
This last point may explain, in particular, the enduring fascination with meteor showers in the modern age. Not only are they inherently spectacular the Perseid shower can produce a couple of shooting stars every minute at its peak – but they also remind us of the cyclical journey of our planet through the solar system.
Every year at around this time, the Earth's orbit crosses through a stream of comet debris, and for a few hours, this causes the night sky to light up with fireworks. This is one instance, I think, in which knowing the science behind what's going on up there actually helps to enhance our natural sense of wonder. It takes us beyond our Earthbound perspective in a way that would not have been possible a few centuries ago.
It's very easy to get caught up in the stresses and trivia of day-to-day life, but for me, one of the constant joys of the night sky is that it allows you to rise above all this,We have a great selection of blown glass backyard solar landscape lights and solar garden light. if only for a few hours.A solar bulb that charges up during the day and lights the night when the sun sets. That's why I'll be drinking lots of coffee and staying up past midnight for the Perseids. The forecast is for a clear night, so I'm quietly hopeful. When has the weather forecast ever been wrong?
Read the full story at www.soli-lite.com!
I'd been there for about two weeks, and every day and night had been completely cloudless, with not even a hint of moisture in the air. Then, on the evening the Perseids were due to peak, everything changed. At dusk, a dense blanket of cloud started to roll across the mountains with a solemn inevitability. By 9pm, I might as well have been staring at a blank cinema screen. I think I manage to see one meteor before the last chink of starlight was extinguished.
The moral, of course, is that astronomy is a cruel and capricious mistress – something star-gazers have known for a very long time. Yet we keep going back. There's something very compelling about staring at the night sky. I'd say that it's innate to us. For most of human history, there can't have been a great deal to do at night. It's no great surprise that our ancestors spent a lot of time looking to the heavens, finding patterns and charting the movement of the planets.
They also weaved their stories into the night sky. As annual reports on the Perseids often fail to explain, the name of this meteor shower is derived from the constellation of Perseus, which is the point in the sky from which the meteors appear to come. Perseus, as you may know, was the slayer of the Gorgon Medusa and rescuer of Andromeda (whose constellation is home to our most famous galactic neighbour).Are you still hesitating about where to buy hid kits? The ancient Greeks saw the great myths of their civilisation written in the stars.
Today, I think we can all agree that we're infinitely smarter than the ancient Greeks. Most 10 year-olds understand that stars are just large nuclear furnaces converting hydrogen into helium, and that the patterns of the constellations are nothing more than tricks of our Earthbound perspective.
Yet our sense of wonder remains curiously undiminished. There's still something almost primordial in the pleasure we can derive from the simple act of looking up at the universe. And arguably, although our understanding of what's going on up there has been transformed, one aspect of our pleasure is not dissimilar from that of our ancestors. Gazing at the night sky still brings a sense of both awe and connectedness: awe because of the sheer, mind-boggling scope of the universe, and connectedness because of the nightly interaction between our planet and the wider cosmos.
This last point may explain, in particular, the enduring fascination with meteor showers in the modern age. Not only are they inherently spectacular the Perseid shower can produce a couple of shooting stars every minute at its peak – but they also remind us of the cyclical journey of our planet through the solar system.
Every year at around this time, the Earth's orbit crosses through a stream of comet debris, and for a few hours, this causes the night sky to light up with fireworks. This is one instance, I think, in which knowing the science behind what's going on up there actually helps to enhance our natural sense of wonder. It takes us beyond our Earthbound perspective in a way that would not have been possible a few centuries ago.
It's very easy to get caught up in the stresses and trivia of day-to-day life, but for me, one of the constant joys of the night sky is that it allows you to rise above all this,We have a great selection of blown glass backyard solar landscape lights and solar garden light. if only for a few hours.A solar bulb that charges up during the day and lights the night when the sun sets. That's why I'll be drinking lots of coffee and staying up past midnight for the Perseids. The forecast is for a clear night, so I'm quietly hopeful. When has the weather forecast ever been wrong?
Read the full story at www.soli-lite.com!
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