August Moon
The other night, I happened to glance up at the night sky and saw a bright light to the east.
“I bet that’s Jupiter or Saturn,” I thought to myself, so I went inside and grabbed my old, trusty binoculars and had a look. Sure enough, the bright light resolved itself into a larger bright light, with four smaller lights surrounding it — Jupiter.
And that’s when the astronomy bug bit me again.
Perhaps “bit” is the wrong word. It’s more like the varicella-zoster virus. The first infection is the worst, and you end up with chickenpox. In the case of astronomy, you go out and buy yourself the best telescope you can afford (mine was a Meade ETX-90 — the one before computer tracking became dirt cheap to put on mounts). For those who aren’t consumed by the infection, the virus eventually goes into remission and the telescope collects dust in the corner, or you dontate it to a school or sell it (mine went to a high school with an astronomy club).
Unfortunately, remission does not mean cure. Later in life the virus can reassert itself. Glancing at Jupiter that fateful night was the trigger. And like varicella-zoster asserting itself as shingles, I find myself thinking about good telescopes for sidewalk astronomy — something easily pulled out on a whim to look at the night sky, streetlights be damned.
And like shingles, this too shall pass. I just have to bear with the metaphorical itching, and try to remind myself of all the bad things about astronomy. The late nights. The bugs. The lack of dark skies where I live. Meanwhile, I will take the occasional through-the-eyepiece picture of the moon with my digital camera and binoculars, and read up on the latest and greatest telescopes for sale.
