Center city Philadelphia skyline, visible on the horizon, is not lit green this year. Eagles distracted themselves with internal politics, spiraling into the Delaware River, forgetting to come up for air.
The dog and I outside in the January evening darkness just now. Her senses alert to the movement of large animals, green eyes of deer bobbing in the field at the limit of my flashlight’s quick glance. I wonder what she thinks of the human hand’s ability to conjure light at will.
My attention is heavenward. Orion is our companion, now and for some months ahead. Jupiter too, alone this year for the most part, playing a solo in contrast to last winter when Mars and Saturn were constant accompanists.
Too much light at the moment, maybe Bortle 7. When we repeat our steps in the hour or two before sunrise, mankind will be asleep, skies maybe Bortle 4 here in the northeast. Perhaps visible a string of 19 space jewels moving south to north, a wink from Elon.
