Why I Leave the Picture Taking to the Pros

The local paper got the shot I hoped they would.

I saw this while driving into Uptown Charlotte last night and couldn't get my camera out fast enough. No, it's not safe to take pictures while driving. I would never do such a thing. Whatever. The full moon on the verge of eclipse hanging behind the wispy clouds right next to the Bank of America building was so spine-tingling that I was actually yelling out loud and waving like a lunatic at the driver in the car next to me. I didn't get the camera out in time. But someone with much better photo skills at the Charlotte Observer covered for me.

The lunar eclipse got even cooler later on when the moon entered the Earth's shadow and took on a pinkish-orange huge. Hidden from the sun's direct light, it looked really tiny and more three-dimensional than we're used to seeing. Like a galactic meatball.

I wished, then that I was back in Utah watching it with Dad through our dinky old telescope.

As a teenager, I spent most summer nights learning summer constellations and the mythological stories behind them. I led the star parties at Girls Camp with my trusty flashlight and gossipy collection of lusty Roman lovers and Greek gods doomed to the night sky. I even enrolled in an astronomy class at BYU. A very bad idea, since it was taught by the dean of the physics department. It seems I'm into constellations, and NOT astronomy, ie. calculating distance and speed of light and the intricacies of dark matter.

Dad bought that old telescope when I was 17. It was really only good for looking at the craters on the moon and a vague glimpse at the rings of Saturn. Nothing too Deep Space. But we had so much fun that it inspired one of the best birthday presents of my life. The hot summer night I turned 18, Dad took me up to Snowbird Ski Resort for a lecture on planets and stars, followed by a ride in the tram to the top of the mountain. When you get that high, the stars and the wildflowers start to intermingle and the air is so thin you feel a little like you're flying. Away from light pollution, I lost my bearings and could hardly pick out the Big Dipper.

Astronomy buffs were crawling all over the craggy mountain peak with their homemade telescopes pointed at various galaxies, planets and binary systems. We hopped from one to the next, peeking through their cardboard-and-mirror contraptions. Free love astronomy.

To lift a great quote from the film Contact: If there aren't other people out there, it seems an awful waste of space.