A cosmic love
By Stephanie Harrington, Opinions Columnist
For as long as I can remember, I would look up at the night sky and stare in pure awe at its vastness. As I think everyone does, I would wonder about all of those elements that lie light-years away, so far beyond our grasp that all we can really do is just appreciate their subtle beauty, because it is something we may just never understand. Of course that is not necessarily true because astronomers study all of this, understanding our solar system, the galaxy, stars and the great forever that is the universe.
Although I am taking Astronomy this semester, I still find it bewildering and curious to look up and see the lights painted ever so delicately on the black sky. It almost hurts to look up and see the night sky because of how marvelous it really is. This week for my lab component, I observed the night sky with my class. I found myself staring upwards, turning in circles to try and keep myself warm despite the chilly temperature. With some pretty intense telescopes, we observed a variety of fascinating objects. First was the moon. The waxing crescent just exposed enough so we could see numerous craters and indentations on the lunar surface.
Later we examined clusters of stars, and then the belt of the famous constellation Orion. Interestingly enough, Jupiter was visible as well and we had the opportunity to see the planet and its four large moons. Although all of these fascinated me, little did I know that we would be able to spot another greater celestial body. Our instructor readjusted the telescope and let us come up one by one. I peered into the eyepiece and squinted to see a small fuzzy, white blur in the center of the image. Whereas the other images we saw through the eyepiece were nearly crystal clear, this object was particularly difficult to make out. It was so fuzzy because this telescope was not strong enough to see this far away. This fuzzy white object, so faint that I almost couldn’t see it, was actually a galaxy.
I was absolutely blown away that we could actually see, just barely, another galaxy. I already knew that we are such a small miniscule part of the universe, but seeing it reinforced this. In school I only ever heard people talk about our own Milky Way galaxy, but never really of other galaxies beyond us. Of course I knew that others existed, but they seemed so distant that they were almost mythical.
But this not so mythical galaxy was right in front of me and I didn’t really know how to respond. It was very real and I suddenly felt very small. Even smaller than my 5 foot 1 inches. And it’s of course a bit depressing to think that we might be so insignificant, but sometimes I can’t really avoid feeling this way. I am in a class that frequently mentions how massive the universe and how small we are compared to it.
Yes we are small. The universe is big. I am truly fascinated by astronomy and how I can finally understand some things that were once great mysteries to me. Looking around the night sky is different for me now because I can point out constellations and perhaps recognize Jupiter on a particular night. However, I fear that knowing the science will take away part of the beauty I accepted as something so distant and different. Things are becoming increasingly less magical, but I want to hold onto those twinkling stars and beautiful celestial beings. Keeping a little bit of wonder and awe may be the only way for me to hold onto my cosmic love.
