One of my simple pleasures is taking a walk at night and gazing at the night sky. On clear nights I take the long path back along the lake to my dorm just to look up and lose myself. I love staring at a large full moon and identifying visible planets, and the few constellations I know. When I was little I viewed the night sky as a giant black blanket pinpricked with tiny holes of light. The moon was like a large flashlight that would slowly shine and recharge over the course of the month. I grew up in a village 20 miles outside New York City and I believe that the location I grew up in has definitely encouraged my fascination for the stars. It is not because I can see the thousands of stars or the band of the Milky Way, but the lack thereof. It was a real treat to see more stars, wish upon a shooting star, or watch a satellite glide overhead. Often times, the night sky at UR reminds me of home because on any given night I can only make out a few dozen stars. Living 5 miles from the downtown lights of Richmond is relatively equal to the light pollution of NYC and my own chunk of suburbia.
I feel that no matter where I travel I cannot escape the confines of light pollution. Even hiking and camping near my home I could not seem to get away. My first experience with a true starry night sky was when I visited Arizona. It seemed unreal and made me ponder. Was this the same sky people used to gaze at before the advent of electricity? Can I see shooting stars other than during the Perseids and Leonids? A vivid memory of my stargazing was when a friend said sarcastically “Yeah, those things there are called stars.”
It is saddening how light pollution has affected the stargazer’s perfect night, going so far as to encompass the James River skyline which I assumed would have been clearer. Celeste had a small birthday bonfire at Pony Pasture last month. Huddling close to the fire as it hailed, I could see two distinct glows. To left lay the aura of UR and to my right was the effulgence of downtown Richmond. I could make out the waning moon and maybe a dozen stars that night. Not even the distinctive Orion’s belt was visible. It amazed me just how bright UR’s lights really are and how much our school illuminates the night sky. It’s fascinating the amount of light people actually produce in Richmond, the U.S., and throughout the world. I truly believe that Earth Hour should become more popular throughout the U.S. so that everyone can see that inspiring Arizona night sky I once saw. One hour without the lights can reduce the amount of energy used. It can also provide simple stargazers a brief chance to view a naturally bright night sky. Earth Hour this year is March 31 from 8:30-9:30pm! I hope that many Richmonders will turn off their lights and get outside. If you want to find me that Saturday night, just look for the kid near the lake looking at the sky.
Earth Hour 2012: www.earthhour.org/