On Saturday, December 24, 2022 at 11:49:19 PM UTC-8, Marty wrote:
Since sometime in the late 1960's it's been my personal tradition to be outside at midnight on Christmas. It doesn't matter which midnight, it's a busy time of year, but I usually make both. The weather over the last few days has been brutally cold and
windy, never getting above zero degrees F, the nights much colder. Today got slightly warmer, I think 7 or 8 degrees F, but it's still COLD. In many years past when dealing with severe cold temperatures, I would've headed out maybe five minutes before
midnight, watched Christmas arrive, and then run back in. Over the past few years though, the light pollution has exploded around my house on the edge of a small, rural, Iowa town. I now live in an ugly, blinding, haze of badly designed light pollution.
To see the quiet beauty of a Christmas Eve midnight, I'd have to at least do some walking. So, I fired up a couple of Zippo handwarmers, bundled up warm in my wookie suit, and headed out about 15 minutes before the magic hour into the subzero night.
I crunched down through the snow on the hill to the east of my house to the paved pedestrian walk and headed south, raising my left arm to shield my eyes from the idiotic lights spaced along the path... They're about like looking into the headlight of
a car. Only a few of the brightest stars were visible, and only a hint of the snowy harvested field to my left could be seen beyond the lights. Walking a little further, past the hill, I turned my head to the east to avoid the blinding light pollution
from the church to my west. Before long, I reached the point where the path turns west, but I continued on south on the snow covered grass... There would be no escaping all that light pollution, but I could at least leave the bright lights behind me. I
lowered my arm and continued on. Soon, grave stones began appearing to my right... I was entering the local cemetery. I continued on, admiring the subtle beauty of the field to my left. Before long, I reached one of the single lane gravel roads that run
through the cemetery and continued on. Now grave stones appeared to my left too as I continued on down the road, up the gentle incline through the cemetery. The bright stars of winter were becoming more visible now... Orion high and mighty just past the
meridian, Canis Major following him, as has has for so many thousands of years. It's been a terrible week for families to travel, and a worse week to visit cemeteries, but I could see that some of the graves were decked with wreaths, red flowers, and
Christmas decorations. These people were loved, and tonight their families are remembering Christmases past. In recent years, it's become a thing to put solar powered LED lights by graves, but very few of them shone tonight... too many hours of very cold
winter darkness pretty much shut them down. As I continued further south on the road the graves to my left thinned out, but now the water loomed up out of the darkness. The sight of that thing at night always reminds my of the lumbering Martian war
machines in H. G. Wells' 1897 "War Of The Worlds." That probably explains why some people are frightened of cemeteries at midnight. Now, I'd reached the south edge of the cemetery, marked by a row of evergreen trees. I turned to my left, and walked a bit
to find a tree large enough to shield me from the lights of my little town where it extends a couple blocks further south. I found one, I think they're some kind of fir, but tonight they're all Christmas trees. I took my view to the south.
This was what I'd come to see. It was beautiful. I was looking down the other side of the hill into the snowy, harvested fields. The lights of the southern part of town gently washed across the snow. A row of trees ran through the low area before the
next hill gently rose, more in the darkness of midnight. The night was quiet and beautiful. I listened for barking dogs or traffic, and there was nothing. A silent night... I looked at my watch and it had been Christmas for 5 minutes...
"The Children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads.
And I in my wookie suit stood on the hill,
Enjoying the night in the sub zero chill."
OK, I stole that first line from some guy. I looked up at the stars. Over many years I've come to love the stars. The night was clear, but the transparency was only mediocre. I looked up at Orion some more, and then up at the Hyades and Pleiades star
clusters. Mars was BRIGHT, riding high in the sky, above and a little west of Aldebaran, about even with the Pleiades. The god of war slowly following the seven sisters... I'll leave it to somebody else to try and figure that one out... While the
transparency was a bit poor, the seeing was incredible. Not being much of a planet watcher, I hadn't noticed it at first, but not a single star twinkled at all. I stared at Sirius and Rigel, trying to detect the slightest flicker, but there was none. I
don't think I've ever seen a night as steady as this one, even with the cold breeze. As always on a Christmas midnight, Leo was up in the east. Turning, shielding my eyes with my hand, I could see the Big Dipper standing on it's handle. All I could make
out of the Little Dipper was Polaris, Kochab, and Pherkad. It was time to head home.
I stepped out from behind my little tree to head back north, and I was blinded by the lights of the church. I couldn't see the ground, I couldn't see the gravel road, I couldn't see the grave stones. Even the snow looked black. No fewer than six
unshielded, hot blue, LED light packs on the church were blasting me in the face. I pulled out my flashlight to find the road, and headed back north. I followed the gravel road, stepped off into the snow covered grass, then back on the walkway, and
finally, back up the hill to my house. I wish all of you a Merry Christmas!
Marty
Post Script:
Reading back on this, I've allowed an edge of anger to creep in, and I don't like it that way. Of course, I never know how these are going to read until I get back in. I considered rewriting it, but it's late and I've become old. Besides, I guess these
posts have become a punctuation point in my life as much as they are a Christmas card.
It's maddening and depressing for me though, to watch the view of something so beautiful, so magnificent, so inspiring, so wonderful, obliterated by a blinding electronic celebration of fear and ignorance.
Oh well. There I go again. What I'm WANTING to say is that I wish everyone a very merry Christmas!
So There.
Marty
Good to hear from you again, Marty, it has been too long! Merry Christmas!
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