Neowise

It's been a tough year. I think we can all agree on that. About a week ago my son John asked me what I was doing about viewing the comet. I hadn't heard anything about a comet. I guess I've been sheltering in place even more than I realized. I started doing a little bit of research on the comet Neowise and how I might be able to see it. At first, comet sightings were only possible in the hours before sunrise. That wasn't going to happen. But then things shifted such that evening viewings were possible. It was said that the comet would be visible in the northwest about 80 minutes after sunset, about 9:45. That was a little past my bedtime but doable.

Astronomy in Vermont has its good points and its challenges. We still have dark skies. That is a huge blessing. But we also have mountains. The comet was near the sun so visibility was only possible when it was low on the horizon. I drove around a little bit on Monday, sort of a dry run, looking for spots with good views to the northwest seemingly free from street lights and  other sources of light pollution. I started to notice that this quest in and of itself was therapeutic. My daily worries just seemed to drop away the more I focused in on this project.

The weather forecast for Tuesday night was for partly cloudy skies. I thought I would give it a shot. I had picked my spot and called my neighbor Pete to see if we wanted to meet me there. Pete is the finest amateur astronomer I've ever met. He is the one who got me started on astronomy many years ago. He wasn't able to make it, but gave me some good tips on how to proceed. He said I should look to the northwest at 345 degrees on a compass. I said I didn't think I had a compass. "You probably have one on your phone," Allyn chirped from the living room. She was right, I did.

I headed out to the town office parking lot with my binoculars about 9:30. There were some small hills there, but hopefully not too tall. Good dark skies, however. I started moving around to try to find the best possible position, to minimize the size of the hills by moving away from them. I ended up on the road between West Rutland and Tinmouth. Fortunately  there was little traffic at that time of night. I hauled out the binoculars but didn't see anything. I pulled out my phone and found the compass app. Turned it to 345 degrees and looked up...There it was.

Science Times

Obviously I didn't take this photo, but of the pictures I've seen, this one comes the closest. I don't really know how long I stood there, in the middle of the road on a dark night. The world of Donald Trump and the pandemic, and Black Lives Matter had completely fallen away. There was just this shining apparition, the vastness of space, the beating of my heart. It was the most uplifting experience I've had since returning from Brazil back in March which seems like such a long time ago.

I moved out of the road, looking at the comet from various vantage points. Once you knew where it was, you could see it with the naked eye. Driving back home I reflected on how people that I cared about had helped me to have the opportunity to view this: John, Pete, and Allyn. I'm not sure I would have seen it without the help from Pete. I was very grateful, not only to have had the chance to see this, but just to be alive, to be healthy, to have people to care about, and people who care about me. To live in a place and a world where it's possible to experience the miraculous, even if it's all by myself on a quiet country road on a dark summer night.