Catch A Falling Star, Fighter

Falling star? Who, the exotic Djinn, Huma? No, real stars, the ones they have in space. I say this because a church person invited me to the Meyers Observatory for a "star party." In case you don't know, a star party is an event at which astronomers get together and look at the stars, through their telescopes.

Well, the Meyers Observatory has a good 'scope, and I kid you not. Strange, eh? Who knew that there was a serious observatory outside of the bucolic Texan hamlet of Clifton? Not me, that's for sure, but there it is.

You park up on top of Observatory Hill, or whatever it's called, and breathe in the smell of sage, mesquite and cedar. For me that's the smell of Texas and I love it, then you notice that there's an enormous telescope.

Inside the telescopic fortress are keen astronomers, people who devote their lives to the stars, Magi with Servers. It is, not to put too fine a point on it, the den-of-geek. But you know what, their enthusiasm has a point, the heavens themselves, and you can see these through the Observatory 'scope.

Two of the Telescope's servants rigged up an eye-piece, applied themselves to a dimly redlit laptop and got to work. "What do you want to see?" their leader called out to the dark room of the Observatory's tower, "M13, M27?"

The scope moved on its preset drive to point at the right location in the sky, like a gun on a great battleship. Then there it was, a nebula, hanging in front of you in the eye-piece, 1400 light years away, along with the bright, diamond stars. It was like being transported to space itself.

Then, all too soon, it was time to snap back to local time and space and head back to the Compound.

Thanks, CH, for a great evening.

Ad Astra,

LSP

So I Drove To Clifton

I drove out of Dallas for Clifton this morning, along an eerily deserted southbound I35. Northwards was a different story, as endless cars jammed into the metrosprawl.

Soon enough, I was heading down 219 into Clifton and I like that drive. The road winds along and then the ground dips away to reveal a westwards vista. My pictures never do it justice, but still, it's dramatic, especially if you're used to the endless flatness of significant parts of Texas. Everything looks weirdly lush and green at the moment; that will change soon enough.

Clifton is a well put together little town and worth the visit, if you're in the area. It has a decent Western Store, an excellent feed/tack store, and several restaurants and shops. It's not boarded up and reverting to nature, unlike other towns, which I won't name. 

But I didn't knock about the town, I just went to the funeral and paid my respects. The service was led by a young Lutheran pastor, who seemed a pleasant clergyman, although he kept saying, "Christ is Risen! Alleluia!" apparently in the hope that the mourners would respond, joyously, with, "He is Risen Indeed! Alleluia!" I know, it's Eastertide, but I could have done without that.

I drove back to Dallas and discovered that a rifle barrel had arrived, which was pleasing. My friends, who had been hunting in Clifton as I was at the funeral, managed to shoot a pig and some rabbits. Well done!

God bless,

LSP