The Night Sky - Stars

There are many things I enjoy about staying in Dumfries& Galloway. One thing, free to all in abundance is the total darkness around the vast area of Galloway Forest Park. On a clear night, the sky sparkles with millions of stars, their brilliance natural and clear, unspoilt by the pollution of town lighting. We can step out of our lodge and just look up into the night sky. This is when I wish I had better vision; so much is lost on me. For the sharper eyed or keen astronomers, the Scottish Dark Sky Observatory is situated at Dalmellington in Ayrshire at the far north east of the forest.

It is comforting to feel at-one with nature beneath this celestial blanket, listening to the owls, catching a glimpse of a deer, fox or rabbit and the smaller creatures that come out at night. This is my heavenly, happy place.

Last week was Bonfire Night. It’s not my favourite time of the year and this is the first time that my priority hasn’t been to keep our spaniel calm. I found myself agreeing to stroll down to the park with my eldest grandson, aged four, and his parents, to watch the annual firework display at the cricket ground. We live in a family-popular area so there were lots of fireworks around us. No sooner had we left the house, all of us wrapped up for the cold, than we were subjected to a barrage of bangers going off from all directions around us. My gloved hand tightened the grip on my grandson’s as I reassured  him that the bangs were only noisy fireworks, nothing scary, and if we keep looking up to the sky, we’ll see the lovely patterns and bright colours. And we did. We stood on the perimeter of the park and watched the fireworks from the surrounding neighbourhood before the cricket club started theirs.  Nearby, some people were behaving recklessly with fireworks. We kept moving out of their way until we gave up and made for home. My grandson enjoyed it, which was the main thing.

Soon I’ll be back in Dumfries & Galloway. The night sky might be cloudy, heavy with rain or possibly snow hiding the stars and moon from view. I won’t mind.

Stars by Emily Bronte

 

Ah! why, because the dazzling sun
    Restored my earth to joy

Have you departed, every one,
And left a desert sky?

 All through the night, your glorious eyes

Were gazing down in mine,
And with a full heart's thankful sighs
I blessed that watch divine!

I was at peace, and drank your beams

As they were life to me
And revelled in my changeful dreams
Like petrel on the sea.

 Thought followed thought—star followed star

Through boundless regions on,
While one sweet influence, near and far,
Thrilled through and proved us one.

 Why did the morning rise to break

So great, so pure a spell,
And scorch with fire the tranquil cheek
Where your cool radiance fell?

 Blood-red he rose, and arrow-straight,

His fierce beams struck my brow;
The soul of Nature sprang elate,
But mine sank sad and low!

 My lids closed down—yet through their veil

I saw him blazing still;
And bathe in gold the misty dale,
And flash upon the hill.

 I turned me to the pillow then

To call back Night, and see
Your worlds of solemn light, again
Throb with my heart and me!

 It would not do—the pillow glowed

And glowed both roof and floor,
And birds sang loudly in the wood,
And fresh winds shook the door.

 The curtains waved, the wakened flies

Were murmuring round my room,
Imprisoned there, till I should rise
And give them leave to roam.

 O Stars and Dreams and Gentle Night;

O Night and Stars return!
And hide me from the hostile light
That does not warm, but burn—

 That drains the blood of suffering men;

Drinks tears, instead of dew:
Let me sleep through his blinding reign,
And only wake with you!


Emily Bronte  1818 - 1848

Thanks for reading, Pam x

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Moon

Many thought that when I was asked to write a piece about the moon that I would write a poem about bare bums. The fact is I really like the moon and she features quite often in my work. I use her as a reference to colour and light. She has a subversive beauty, a calling.

“Oh the children of the night”

MOON

I howl for you

I move with the tide

You control my mind

You see my dark side

I bow and worship

I gawp in awe

You take colours from me

You soak my shore

I give blood to you

I dance in your shadow

You hide the Sun's fire

You sonata on a piano

I watch you rise

I admire your slender crescents

You cold hearted orb

You control with your presence

I wax of your waning

I would be lost without you

You ever present satellite

You are older when you are new.


Colin Davies

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Barking At The Moon

Hot on the heels of last week's cat blog, this week's dog blog. Prompted by listening to Mark Grist recite a poem about his happy hound on Blackpool Promenade the other night (as part of National Poetry Day), I thought I'd give a canine spin to this moon theme. I've done a bit of research into the story of the first dog in space and I've crafted today's poem on the back of that.

Blackpool (along with many other towns, I'm sure) has been awash with posters, stickers, buttons and events this week celebrating National Poetry Day - "dream like a poet", "love like a poet", "speak like a poet", "think like a poet" etc; (I didn't spot any that read "starve like a poet").  As T.S. Eliot once remarked in his essay about the Metaphysical Poets, we artists/authors/poets have the pleasant duty to both entertain and educate - and we do it for love. I hope these Dead Good Blogs go some way to living up to that duty. Barking at the moon, then...

Laika (apparently her name means Barking in Russian) achieved a dubious but lasting fame as the first animal to go into earth orbit, when Sputnik 2 blasted off from the Baikonur Cosmodrome to celebrate the 40th anniversary of the Bolshevik Revolution in November 1957. President Kruschev was eager to prove to the world that the Soviet Union led the way in the space race. Laika, part husky, part Samoyed terrier, had been picked up as a stray wandering the Moscow streets. (I was there a few times in 2010 and 2011 and packs of stray dogs still roam the city.) The Soviet scientists of the Sputnik programme chose strays because they reasoned such animals had demonstrated great endurance to survive the extreme cold and deprivation of Moscow winters.

 

Laika was one of three rounded-up hounds trained for the Sputnik launch; (the others were Albina and Mushka). To prepare them for their journey into space, the dogs were transferred to progressively smaller cages over a three-week period to get them used to extreme confinement; they were also regularly spun in centrifuge machines and exposed to high volume recordings of jet engines, both of which simulated the acceleration and thunderous noise of a rocket launch. Finally they had to be trained to eat the special high-nutrition gel that would be their food in space. Laika was chosen to be the flight dog as she was the least excitable of the three. Days before the launch, one of the scientists took her home to play with his children: "I wanted to do something nice for Laika. She had so little time left to live."

 

Just prior to lift-off on November 3rd 1957, Laika's fur was sponged with a weak alcohol solution and carefully groomed. She was harnessed and painted with iodine on those areas where sensors were to be attached. She was then wired up, secured in her capsule, a container in which she could stand or sit but couldn't turn round. The technicians kissed her nose and wished her luck before closing and securing the hatch.

Telemetry from Sputnik 2 suggested that Laika's respiratory rate quadrupled during the stress of lift-off and her heart rate increased from 100 to 240 beats per minute. Once in orbit and weightless, after about 3 hours these functions had gradually returned to normal levels. However, the thermal insulation on the spacecraft had malfunctioned shortly after lift-off and the capsule temperature rapidly soared to over 40C, so that the first dog in space expired just six hours into her voyage from overheating. Five months later, in April 1958 after 2,570 orbits of the Earth Sputnik 2, including Laika's remains, disintegrated during re-entry to the atmosphere.

Laika

Moon
I've been observing you carefully for quite some while.
You brighten the sky
but don't burn like the sun.
Did you ever see me with your great silver eye?
Did you hear me barking to you
when you rose majestic over the city at night?

Life is hard enough here
and though I'll never complain
I have dreams of you, moon.
As I watched the Moscow river
slowly freeze over again
I did think how fine it would be
to scamper on your surface,
kick up moondust with abandon,
leap ten feet into the air
with every joyful stride,
chase my tail for happiness,
running free,
maybe find a moondog for a friend,
bury bones for all eternity.

Could it be
that dreams come true?
Plucked from the streets,
it seems I am the chosen one,
trained now and readied
to rocket to the skies.

I do not howl from fear
as other dogs do.
I am through with barking.
Instead, I'm waiting on a great adventure,
tense in this darkest hour before the dawn,
quivering with anticipation,
tingling to my tail
from a kindly kiss upon the nose.

Stars guide me home.
Beyond your sparkling curtain
is the promise of a better tomorrow.
5-4-3-2-1...

Thanks for reading. Have a good week, S ;-)

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My life in Death - Poem inspired by the colour blue

This weeks theme is the colour blue. For some reason this poem came into my mind. I hope you enjoy it.


My life in Death
In many shadows I walk
The moon's smile showing me the way
Streets in silver highlight with whispered talk
Shivers of a long forgotten day

I miss the warmth of sunshine in my blood
Destiny deals such a heavy hand
To walk once more through the early spring bud
Hearing the brass blasts of the Salvation band

But of all the things I miss in light
The scape I still yearn to view
To look up in to an infinite sky
And blind myself with spread of blue

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