RA: 05h 55m 10.3053s, D: +07° 24′ 25.426″

One of the (very) few benefits of waking up in the middle of the night to go to work is the quiet moments i have with the sky. Just me and my old friend. Even in the moderate light pollution my small city provides, i have a beautiful view of most of the sky, while the rest of the city is asleep. And at 5:15 yesterday morning, I enjoyed the return of another old friend: Orion, the Hunter.

My fascination with the sky goes as far back as i can remember. I remember exactly where i was when my Dad explained how I could orient myself by finding one particular star. I knew the basics of celestial mechanics early in life, (unlike the Dogma-Grasping Pope Urban VII) and the concept of finding the Pole Star, the one which never moved in our sky, was easy for me to grasp. And I spiraled outwards from there, finding new friends like Ursa Major and Minor, Andromeda, Cepheus, and beautiful Draco, in the Southern Sky. Then, I focused on what formed the matrix for these constellations: Bellatrix. Izar. Diadem. Pollux. Wolf 357. Cyrra. Hydra. Mirrach. Rigel. Betelgeuse. Canis Major.

Each of these is more than a name: it is a place, and there, in these places, they are hopefully known by entirely different names.

Later, in HS physics, i learned the basics of thermonuclear fusion, and how a reaction can be held almost indefinitely by our brief flicker of time standard. I learned via the Theory of Relativity, and its inherent constraint on time and space, that simply because i could see the stars, it didn't mean that they were actually there anymore. The star itself could be gone, burned out or exploded, but the light that it sent out at 186K miles per second is still coming. it still moves constantly outward through the vacuum of Space, in a fully encompassing, expanding spherical movement.

...and it is this last concept that i love the most about the night sky. it's because i can place this concept - firmly rooted in exacting physical science - into other areas of my life. I may have real issues dealing with anything metaphysical, but here is one idea that might have a direct and real crossover: Just because something is gone physically does not mean that the light it once emitted isn't still on the way. this helps me when i think about my dear Hannah, who I never met, never hugged, never tucked in at night, and yet, still somehow, desperately miss and love.

Her birthday is approaching, and on her day, I'll find a moment to look into the night sky, locate a particular star (bonus points if you can ID the star given by the coordinates above), wonder if it is still actually there, and then, most likely I'll decide that it really doesn't matter. The light it gave off 500, 1000, or 150 million years ago is still on the way. and that is something. it isn't nothing. Light itself is an actual, physical, thing. And so is Love.

I miss you, Hannah. Happy Birthday, sweetie.