heavenly doings

 

If you have been confined in your house because of the virus (or even if you have been out partying every night), I have free tickets for a show that is worth seeing.

And you do not need to drive anywhere for the performance. All you need to do is walk outside and look up.

The show comes in two acts. The first will be the largest meteor shower of the year, know as the Geminids. Each December Earth passes through a cloud of dust and rocks left by a -- well, no one is quite certain. Maybe the remnants of an asteroid or a comet flameout. Think of it as space garbage.

The source is not as important as the result. When Earth passes through the cloud, all of that prosaic material is turned into poetry. Flaming poetry. If you are fortunate, you may even see the rather rare (but often unseen) sight of a meteor during the day.

Some of you will have already noticed the uptick in meteor activity. Earth entered the cloud on 4 December and will exit it on 17 December. But the really big shew (as Ed Sullivan would have it) will be on the night of 13 December (around 8:30 or so) and into the morning of 14 December.

The scientists who calculate the potential number of meteors that can be observed in one hour must be related to the government economists who estimate annual economic growth. They tend to be a little too optimistic.

The numbers I have seen in the science publications (rather than the popular press) are as high as 120 per hour. 60 is more common. 60 seems about right, based on my own observations each year.

The usual tips apply. 

• Find a dark place with as little artificial light as possible that also affords a wide view of the sky from horizon to horizon.
• Lie on your back. It will give you a broader field of fire -- or observation, in this case.
• Let your eyes adjust to the dark. That will take about 30 minutes. You will then be able to see the faintest of lights in the sky.
• Do not look at your telephone. The light will reset your night vision to almost zero.
• Take a loved one with you. This is an experience not to be enjoyed solo.

That will be act one of Heavens on Parade.

Act two has been building expectations for months. Saturn has been trying to catch up with Jupiter in a race filled with Oedipal overtones (Saturn being Jupiter's son in Roman mythology). 

On 21 December, Saturn will draw close enough to form a "conjunction." Not the grammar type (you know: and, but, or, for, nor, so, yet), but the astronomical sort. An astronomical conjunction occurs when planets appear incredibly close to one another in the sky because they are lining up with Earth in their respective orbits.

Those models of the solar system we saw in grade school really are accurate. The planets line up on a single plane. No one knows the real reason why. The theory is that all of the bodies in our solar system formed from the same disc of matter. The planets merely adopted the faded shape of the disc for their orbits.

The exception was Pluto -- with its eccentric elliptical orbit playing catastrophic dodgeball with Neptune. But, having been demoted (it already was a minor Disney character), Pluto is no longer a planet orbit exception.   

The popular press has overhyped this conjunction as "Christmas star" because the planets will be so close together as to appear as one. But that is not true.

The two planets will be as close together as they have been since 1623, but there will still be a discernible space between them.

The 1623 conjunction was not the first for Jupiter and Saturn. A series of major conjunctions of Saturn, Jupiter, and Mars in 6 and 5 BC may be the explanation for the "star" the eastern wizards followed as part of the Messiah story. The timing is plausible.

Just as a side note, the biggest festival on the Roman calendar was Saturnalia -- the worship of Saturn with gift-giving, revelry, feasting, and role reversals. When Christianity was recognized as an official religion (rather than as a target to promote further hagiographies), one of the first thing the church did was to substitute Christmas for Saturnalia. Like most hostile takeovers, the form changed, but the old substance remained, though role reversals seem to be restricted to teen-parent switcheroos in the movies.

To give the pagans their due, 21 December coincidentally is the winter solstice. Toss in a dose of astrology, and the crystal set will be ready for a true Yule (used in its original pagan sense) -- or maybe even the first day of Festivus with its Airing of Grievances.

So, there will be a lot to think about on the evening of 21 December as you look up at what is simply two planets who have crossed each other's paths, like Shakespeare's "star-crossed lovers," while spinning around the sun.

Whatever construct you build around that event, don't miss the simple poetry of creation.

And that loved one who you took to the Geminids show? Hook up again. It will be a good night to look at stars in each other's eyes after watching them in the sky.